She Said What?
by Zayz
Summary: LJ. Lily Evans keeps a diary in her seventh year to chronicle the strange, murky, embarrassing, and sometimes plain crazy events that a young witch set to graduate has to navigate through. Written in the style of 'Bridget Jones's Diary.' R&R?
1. I Come Back to School

A/N: To be quite frank, I had no intention of getting back into multi-chaptered fics (they are bloody tiresome and I usually lose interest in them pretty quickly) but I was reading _Bridget Jones's Diary _recently and I couldn't help it: I had to write a fic in that quirky diary style.

I've tried writing diaries before – and it totally didn't work because I was thirteen and very stupid – but now I'm almost sixteen and I think I can actually handle it.

Enjoy, and please do review! I'm a tad inexperienced with this style…

--

**This is the personal journal of Lily Evans, Gryffindor, Year ****7  
****Please return to her if found. Thank you!**

**--**

September 1

**9:00 AM  
**_Status: _Harangued

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Argh, bollocks. I can't find my lucky socks _anywhere_.

I could've sworn I put them in the laundry basket when Mum came around and hollered at me to wash my clothes (again) but she insisted they weren't in the wash and now they're nowhere to be found.

_Fuck_.

I cannot leave home without these socks. That much is for certain – I _will not _leave home without these socks. Alice finds me bloody ridiculous, because she maintains you don't need superstition in a world where you can do _real _magic, but I am a Muggleborn and want to cling to my childhood notions, thank you very much.

Those socks truly are my lucky socks – I have had them since I was twelve and they have yet to fail me – and I can't go to Hogwarts for my seventh year without them.

This isn't good.

I hear Mum yelling at me to finish the bloody packing so we can leave. Her yelling makes George, my owl, flap his wings noisily. He and I are similar that way – neither of us enjoy the attractive sounds of Mum getting annoyed early in the morning. But she's right – we have to go to the station _now_. Mum won't let me Floo over to Alice and go with her because she insists on taking me herself (i.e. driving) as some sort of unstated mother-and-daughter bonding law. And we have a really long commute time I can't figure out how to reduce.

Sometimes, I really wonder how we ever got on without magic…

_TO-DO LIST:_

Find toothbrush.  
Remember my Charms book this time.  
Check laundry again for socks.  
Leave Petunia a note to remind her about the casserole I made for Mum, not her glutton boyfriend Vernon.  
Remember to feed George before we leave.  
Get out of here before Mum murders me.

**10:30 AM  
**_Status: _Idle

We are in the car frantically going to the last highway that separates me from King's Cross Station. George keeps hooting from the back-seat, annoyed that the journey is so bumpy and full of jerky stops (Mum isn't known for her driving skills). It is a miracle I haven't missed my train yet.

Found my lucky socks, by the way – they were on my feet. I had forgotten that, in a fit of responsibility and pride-inspiring self-awareness, I had worn them so I wouldn't waste twenty minutes looking for them in the morning.

Wow. I surprise myself sometimes.

**11:05 AM  
**_Status: _Stabilizing

I'm on the train now, thank Merlin. Found Head's compartment with ease, mostly – although I almost hit a couple of first-years trying to haul my trunk up the train steps. I didn't see Alice yet, but I'll join her a bit later. McGonagall says once I'm done meeting the Head Boy and talking with him, I can go back to the regular compartment.

I'm nervous, to be honest. I've wanted to be Head Girl forever, because Mum was a Head Girl at her school and naturally expected me to follow in her footsteps; but at the same time, I'm so bloody forgetful sometimes.

Normally, I'm a good girl. Truly, I am. I'm a notorious procrastinator, but the work is always done when it's needed, neat and clean and mostly correct. All the bitching and whining I do is kept safely behind the scenes, to Alice late at night. That's why everyone thinks I'm responsible and that's probably why I got this job.

But they don't know my ways and the Head Boy certainly won't. I hope he's a good sort of bloke that can forgive a few missteps. Or a million.

I hear someone coming. The Head Boy maybe? I'm hoping it's Remus Lupin. He's exactly the good sort of bloke that can forgive my missteps. And he's way more responsible than I am. Please let it be Lupin…please let it be Lupin…

**11:07 AM  
**_Status: _Horrified out of my mind

HOLY MERLIN'S FAVORITE SALAMI SANDWICH! JAMES BLOODY POTTER IS THE HEAD BOY!!!

Buggerbuggerbuggerbuggerbuggerbuggerbugger.

I'm sorry, that simply had to come out of my system right about now or we would have had globs of Lily-Evans's-insides all over the train. But honestly! Bugger!

I am in the bathroom right now. The moment he stepped into the compartment, taller and a little tanner than last year, my jaw just about fell to the floor.

"Evans, are you all right?" he had asked me with this look of concern all over his bloody face.

Didn't he have the brain capacity to realize I was _not _bloody all right?!

I cannot believe this. I truly can't. How can James Potter be the Head Boy over Lupin? Lupin is…Lupin! He's bloody perfect! And he has manners! And he doesn't challenge Black to burping competitions over breakfast! This can't be happening. This really can't be happening. I must be in some kind of alternate dimension.

Pinched myself three times.

Nope, I'm still here. And now I'm in pain.

Buggerbuggerbugger.

What am I supposed to do now?!

**11:25 AM  
**_Status: _Worried

I have hidden in here for almost twenty minutes now. I think I have to go back or I'll have to invent some kind of rare, unheard-of bladder disorder to explain why I had to be in the bathroom for twenty bloody minutes.

Bugger. My life is officially over.

**12:13 AM  
**_Status: _Confused

I went back to Potter in the Head's compartment after I last wrote. As expected, he asked if I'd fallen ill because I'd been gone so long. I told him I had eaten bad shrimp last night at a farewell-to-Hogwarts dinner, so I'd been springing up to go to the bathroom every seventeen minutes for long periods of time.

It wasn't a _complete _lie. Only the last part was. In reality, I actually _had _eaten some bad shrimp at a farewell-to-Hogwarts party Mum had thrown in the backyard last night. I had been quite sick for a couple of hours afterward, but now I was all right. But he didn't have to know that.

He kind of nodded at me, as though he knew I was lying but had no choice but to believe me. Eh, well. Close enough.

"So…you're the Head Boy?" I eventually had to ask him in order to break the awkward silence.

"Yeah," said Potter. "Sirius was over when I got my letter and neither of us could believe it. My Mum thought Dumbledore was off his rocker."

"Really? How interesting," I said in a falsely cheery voice.

Potter chuckled, more to himself than to me. "Yeah…interesting is a good word for the reaction of everyone I knew afterwards," he said. "Everyone's been on my case about it ever since. Sirius laughs every time he sees my face."

"Do you…want to be Head Boy?" I asked him.

"It's not my first choice of duty, since I'm also incidentally Quidditch captain, but I figured I'd have a responsible Head Girl to help me through it," he said. "And luckily for me, I do."

Oh hell. Here we go again with the whole responsibility thing. At least he'd fix his facts in the next few weeks when he discovered reality…

"Wow," I said. "So…we have to talk about stuff, don't we?"

"Yeah, we do," said Potter. "Let's talk about it."

And so we started talking about stuff – how we're going to handle this Head thing, a rough idea of what's going to be going on this year. Very formal, very important conversations. I felt like a bloody business executive or something. Potter was light, but clearly, he knew this was a serious matter and he treated it as such.

We didn't ask about each other's summers or anything. We just talked about stuff. He has a lot of opinions about stuff, that James Potter. The only way I got him to stop talking was to tell him the lunch cart would be coming soon and I wanted to find Alice. This reminded him to find his own friends and we set off out of the Head's compartment to the main compartment.

Socialization over. Done. Completed. Terminated. I am safe to flee the scene.

New mission: I need to find Alice and tell her everything.

**12:56 PM  
**_Status: _Annoyed

Never mind. Scratch that last. I regret finding Alice at all.

The moment I arrived into her compartment with Olivia Harris, I captured their attention and informed them of my plight – James Potter as my fellow Head.

And what did they do?

They started bloody laughing at me.

"Oh, Lils, you poor, poor thing," said Alice, her coffee-brown eyes weeping with laughter as she pulled me towards her into a hug. "Only you, darling. You have the most rotten luck of anyone I've ever known."

"Merlin, Lily, I'm sorry," said Olivia, making her sympathy-croon-that-sounds-like-George-when-he's-doing-his-business. "Oh dear…what are we going to do about this?"

My friends are two polar opposites sometimes, I swear it.

Alice: Loud, blunt, wise, and sometimes insane.

Olivia: Mild, eloquent, sympathetic, and always the good girl.

Sometimes, it's tough for me to figure out who I want to listen to; so today, I chose Olivia, because she is, after all, sympathetic.

"_Thank _you, Livvy," I said, wrapping my arms around her and resting my cheek on her shoulder. "You're such a doll. See, Alice, this is the kind of friend I need you to be for me."

Alice rolled her eyes, but immediately demanded more details on my conversation with Potter. However, when a person like Alice demands details, she has very specific requirements – she wants to know how our "romance" is coming along. And on that front, I had absolutely nothing to tell her. This frustrated her – a lot.

"Merlin, Lily Evans, what am I supposed to do with you?" she asked me, thumping me on the side of my head.

"How about not hitting me?" I suggested. "I kind of need the big pink thing protected by the bone you just tried to smash, thanks."

Alice ignored that. "No, honestly, you are the most hopeless individual I've had the displeasure of being stuck with," she complained. "You are the _Head Girl _and he is the _Head Boy_. This is the perfect time for you to make a move on him!"

I groaned.

See, in second year, I was a bit of an idiot. All girls at the age of twelve are – they have no idea what they want in life. But in second year, I made the mistake of confiding to Alice that had a little crush on James Potter, that nerdy-but-cool kid who seemed to do everything wrong but still do it right.

Alice, being Alice-like even then, encouraged me to make a move on him, tell him how I felt…

…until third year, when he began to flirt like an outrageous git and my infinitesimal feelings for him withered down to nothing.

But here's the kicker – Alice _still _convinces me to go for him because now I have "secret feelings" for him.

All I have to say to that is, if they're being kept a secret, the vault is pretty damn good, because I don't know I have them either.

Ah, well. I settle down in my seat next to Livvy, braiding her straight mahogany hair (that I so wish I had instead of my unruly carrot-mop) as Alice goes off into another you-love-James-Potter-and-need-to-get-over-your-stubborn-and-irrational-nature rant.

This isn't anything new anymore. I happily tune her out until the lunch cart arrives.

**1:27 PM  
**_Status: _Bloated

I have eaten so much, I don't know why I have exploded yet. Alice and Olivia weren't stupid enough to stuff their faces like me because they weren't stupid enough to skip breakfast and give their body something to complain loudly about, like mine.

Note to self: Stop eating so much. You will be rolling around the corridors of Hogwarts if you are not careful.

**8:16 PM  
**_Status: _Irked

I am going to bloody murder Alice and Olivia.

We got off the train – as we were supposed to – and approached the carriages – also as we were supposed to.

However, due to a twist of bad luck that can only come to me, James Potter somehow found me and began walking in my direction. And I couldn't pretend I hadn't seen him because I had and he managed to catch my eye. Oh Merlin.

The moment he came over, Alice got on that big grin of hers that means trouble and said in an overly-bright-and-cheery voice, "Why, hello, Potter! How nice to see you! How was your summer?"

"Fine, thank you," Potter said politely to Alice. "And how was yours?"

"Brilliant," said Alice.

"Hi, James." Olivia smiled politely and shook his hand.

Olivia is compulsively polite and does things like that – plus, she dated Potter for a while in fourth year (shudder) and is therefore on first-name basis with him. For some reason, they are still casual friends, despite the rather nasty break-up that ensued in fifth year.

"Hi, Olivia," said Potter just as politely to Olivia. "Had a good summer?"

"Yes, fine, thanks," said Livvy.

"Great – it's good to see you both," said Potter. "Evans and I already said hello on the train."

"That we did," I confirmed, mostly because I was nervous as hell and still jittery from the Liquorish wands I'd had on the train.

Damn those Liquorish wands. They always made me so hyper.

"Right…" Thankfully, Potter had picked up the vital skill of recognizing awkward silences and leaving them with a smoothly-laid excuse. He did that then. "So…I'm going to go find a carriage, all right? I'll see you lot at the feast."

"Hey, hey, we're coming too," said Alice. "I don't intend to _walk _up to the castle, for Merlin's sake."

Oh, Alice. She makes me scared sometimes. She has no idea when to quit – and obviously, she's trying to make an opening for me to get into a carriage with Potter and ride off into the sunset with him or something.

Well, she's an idiot. I remember thinking, I won't get into a carriage with him. I won't I won't I won't –

"Oh, hey, there's a carriage there!" exclaimed Alice, pointing at a carriage nearby. "And it's only got room for two people! Lils, why don't you go with Potter in that one and Olivia and I will come up in another one?"

"Erm…all right," said Potter. "C'mon then, Evans."

I shot Alice the Look of Death, but she cheerfully waved good-bye at me, enjoying the sight of me having to go with Potter to the carriage, which already contained a couple of fourth years. We sat up in the carriage and we were silent as the girls jabbered on about their holidays. What a fun ride that was.

I'm in the Great Hall now, waiting for Alice and Livvy to turn up. I now have one of those gold steak-knives in my hand and I am not afraid to use it. There are so many people here, no one will suspect a thing.

**9:14 PM  
**_Status: _Bored

Oh, first years…hurry up and be sorted please. You are such nuisances sometimes. Despite my gluttony on the train, I am hungry once again. I will never be able to wear a bikini ever again.

Hey. Samantha Ackerman is now a Gryffindor. The first kid has been sorted.

One down, three hundred million to go.

I swear, we get more and more first years every time I sit through this ceremony. Our group of them couldn't have been this big. Could it?

**10:30 PM  
**_Status: _Exhausted

Have eaten until bursting point. Skirt feeling tight. Hair is oily. Body is sluggish, weak, like a four-hundred-year-old woman. Need lucky socks to will my intestines to digest this and keep me from retaining this monstrous weight.

Found Head dorm fairly easily. Potter's room just down the hall connecting them. Didn't see him come in. Thank Merlin for small miracles…

Will write again tomorrow when in a more coherent state.

'Night.

--

A/N: So…thoughts? Reactions? Likes? Dislikes? Warnings? Whatever it is that's floating through your mind right this second, put it in that review box and let me know if this is a project worth pursuing.

Thanks, guys!


	2. I Dislike Being Back at School

A/N: Some people have taken a bit of offence to the extremely, ahem, jerky style I've chosen to utilize here. That's fine. I know it's a change if you're accustomed to my regular writing style, but I like branching out a little. The pace is going to be pretty crazy this time around, because real life is an imperfect ebbing and flowing of events both mundane and monumental and I want to try to portray it as such.

This particular chapter isn't all that exciting plot-wise – just a little more introduction. The next few chapters will admittedly feel like that, mostly because it's the beginning of year and the beginning of the story, but it'll be easier and more comfortable starting very soon.

So, enjoy…maybe.

Xx

--

September 2

**9:16 AM  
**_Status: _Very sleepy

Today, I woke up on a mattress that wasn't mine in sheets I wasn't accustomed to in a room I've only seen once in my whole life. Talk about a shocker when I got up this morning with a jolt because I realized I overslept. Ugh.

To make matters worse, I have to re-adjust to thinking in school terms again, after my long, well-deserved vacation. I couldn't remember how to put my uniform on or where my books were in my trunk. Going over this again as I sit here in first period, pretending I care about the current lecture.

I am so very sleepy. Charms first period is ridiculous. Whoever made my schedule needs to be fired. I do love Professor Flitwick, but listening to him squeak so early about NEWT exams in the morning makes my head ache. I want to go back to bed for about twenty five years. Sleeping Beauty gets it way too easy.

We already have seating arrangements, you know. Flitwick took the liberty of making them for us on the first day. James Potter is sitting diagonally to the left of me. Alice is in front of him and beside me. Livvy is on my other side. This set-up makes it easy for Alice to give me piercing looks every time Potter opens his mouth, something she is very diligent about doing.

The window is open, letting the vivid sunshine bathe the room in light. Smells like summer in here. I doodled a lovely daisy in the corner.

Only nine months and a half months until I can go home. Or something like that. I've always been rubbish at maths.

**12:34 PM  
**_Status: _Worn-out

Have made it all the way into lunch without a single nervous breakdown. Good progress – very good, actually. I'm only a little tired; but otherwise, I'm in pretty good condition. I've just got a lot of NEWTs/job/homework goop coming out of my ears, but that's normal by seventh year.

A few minutes ago, as I walking over to the Great Hall to eat, James Potter came up and informed me that we are going to be talking to Professor McGonagall this evening about some of our Head duties. I am supposed to be there at eight, no later.

He delivered his message and I continued on my way, because I was and still am bloody starving. I'm supposed to be eating with Alice and Olivia, but Livvy is being OCD again and has excused herself to wash her hands. When she's eating, she has to wash her hands at least twice in the midst of the meal – not to mention before and after. She can be very strange sometimes, but Alice and I have gotten used to it.

Alice is currently telling me about her holiday, not really caring that I'm writing while only half-listening to her. She just likes someone to talk at sometimes, with a few occasional "ums" and "ahhs" to make her feel a bit better; like right now. She's telling me about her holiday to New York City and how lovely the shops were over there.

I want to go on holiday to America. I want to see buildings that reach for the sky, big wide lots left open just for the hell of it. Listening to Alice only makes me want to go to class even less and I told her that. It's part of the reason I'm allowed to write as she talks.

Here in Scotland, I have Runes next. That means another lecture about NEWTs. Joy…

Livvy's back. Her hands are clean and she can proceed with eating. Alice rolls her eyes because now she has to tell Livvy about the story about the woman with the green mole _again_.

My friends are a strange pair.

**1:27 PM  
**_Status: _Bored in Potions

_Oi, Lily, budge up. You look like you're falling asleep again. -A_

Do I? Damn it. I hate the beginning of the year. -L

_Give it a week. You'll survive. –A_

Easy for you to say. You can actually wake up in the morning. –L

_Don't be bitter, love. Ol' Sluggy doesn't like girls who are bitter and he's looking adoringly in your direction again. –A_

You are a prat. –L

_He likes his ickle Lily-kins with a big, sunshine-y smile on her face. I'm just pointing that out. Like I said, don't be bitter. –A_

He just likes me because I'm good at Potions. We have been over this before. –L

_And because you're charming, and funny, and cheeky, and hyper, and quirky, and cute…blimey, the man will announce his engagement to you the moment you're out of this place, I'm sure of it. –A_

…Are you sure you didn't slip some foreign potion in your orange juice this morning? Essence of Insanity or something? –L

_He is going to ask you to one of his 'cozy little get-togethers' by the end of the period or I'm a Flubberworm. –A_

You're on. –L

**2:06 PM  
**_Status: _Irked

Flashback to five minutes ago…

Slughorn: Lily Evans, m'girl! How are you doing? Haven't seen you in such a while!

Me: Oh, hello, Professor. Had a good holiday?

Slughorn: Fine, fine, just fine. And yours?

Me: Fine as well, thanks.

Slughorn: So listen, old girl, I'm having a start-of-the-year get-together in my office roundabout eight o'clock on Friday evening. Just a few close chums having a spot of dinner together. Do tell me you'll come!

Me: This Friday?

Slughorn: Yes, this Friday.

Me: I'm so sorry, Professor, but I have a meeting with the prefects on Friday night. I won't be able to make it.

Slughorn: Oh, well, that's a real pity, Miss Evans. I was hoping you'd be able to join us.

Me: Next time, Professor.

Slughorn: All right then…good luck with your meeting.

And then I fled, only to find Alice dying with laughter right outside the door.

I am going to kill Alice. Just Crucio her head right off. Sure, I'd be expelled and ruin the duration of my young life, but things would be so much easier if she could stop laughing at me over these unfortunate, meaningless things.

At least I could tell her I can't go. It didn't help, but I felt the slightest bit better.

**2:15 PM  
**_Status: _Swamped

Already, I have enough homework to last me until the Second Coming.

Have nicked lucky socks from upstairs in my dormitory after lunch for wear the rest of today and the rest of the week. Hygiene is irrelevant. Right now, luck is all I have on my side. Here's to hoping I will not be assigned any more homework in the afternoon. Oh, lucky socks, please don't fail me now.

**3:00 PM  
**_Status: _Still swamped

No such luck. My lucky socks have failed me. I have enough homework to last me until a Third Coming. Or maybe another Ice Age.

Is it possible to have magic in a particular lucky object to wear off to the point where you are screwed no matter what? Must check with McGonagall on that.

If this is a glimpse of what the rest of this year looks like, I think I am going to drop out of Hogwarts, live on the streets of Diagon Alley, and knick things from shops to sell at double the price for my income.

No more parties, meetings, _or _homework for me then.

**8:45 PM  
**_Status_: Weary

Well, the meeting's over, dinner has been eaten, and I'm in my pyjamas now, relaxing in my lovely Head Girl's dormitory. I'm feeling a lot better than I felt when I last wrote, but that's mostly because I've promised myself I'm going to finish my homework tomorrow. Most of it is due the day after anyway.

I figure tonight, I need to ease my way back into the school year. Can't burn out before the first day is done, can I?

The meeting was pretty short, only twenty minutes or so. I met Potter in McGonagall's office, because he got there a split second or two before I did. McGonagall was pleased with our punctuality, which was a plus. She then laid out our task for us.

Basically, we're supposed to be aids to the busy teachers of Hogwarts and role models for everyone else. Potter's got that one covered, Mr. Prankster-turned-good-kid-who-gets-near-perfect-grades-and-excels-at-Quidditch-even-though-he-spends-all-his-time-goofing-off-with-his-friends-and-impressing-everyone.

Me, though, I'm the supposed-to-be-responsible farce of a Head Girl so far. I know bollocks about responsibility. I'm just really good at faking it. If there were interviews with friends to help select the Head Girl, and McGonagall got a chance to ask Olivia and Alice, I'm sure things would be very different.

Here's what my jobs are:

1) Patrol. This is the main one. Our patrol starts in three weeks, because the teachers are giving us a grace period. Then, we patrol from nine to ten thirty every night.

2) Meet with the prefects. We are supposed to do this every month, to discuss problems they are having and ways to motivate the students. I'll leave that to Potter – he's already a bloody celebrity with everyone here.

3) Oversee detention if necessary. If a teacher's busy or plain old lazy, we take over. McGonagall says this is rare, but we need to be ready if she needs us.

This is basically it. Otherwise, it's all things like being a source of sympathy for the first years, or break up a duel if one occurs in the corridors. Basically, it's things I've had to do forever. But I nodded and looked very serious to please McGonagall. She told us that we are supposed to make our own patrol schedule and that we don't have to patrol on weekends. We also have to schedule the prefect meetings ourselves, except for the first one, which will be on Friday.

Blimey, I hope I remember to go to this meeting on Friday.

McGonagall said that we should have it in her office. It's the safest place to go. She will inform us of the password when we get to that point.

After all of this has been taken care of, she gave us that stern look of hers, the one that made me want to piss my pants when I was a first-year, and said that she expects us to uphold honor and dignity and something else this year. She also said she is well aware we are not each other's favorite people, but that shouldn't keep us from doing our best.

Me, I found that pretty awkward. I mean, I know the teachers aren't stupid and they are fully aware of the various student feuds, but they shouldn't openly acknowledge it in front of the relevant parties! McGonagall is a smart woman. She ought to have known not to do that.

After issuing this warning, though, McGonagall dismissed us so she could do something else. We were on our own. I felt the warmth come up to the surface of my skin, the blush spreading around my cheeks. I've always been such an easy blusher.

I managed the courage to glance at Potter and was pleased to see he was blushing too. That made me feel a bit better.

"Right…so…we've got three weeks until patrolling starts, correct?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

"Yeah, we do," said Potter, sounding kind of grateful that I initiated the conversation. "When do you want to draw up the schedule?"

"The night before our three weeks starts," I said.

He chuckled. I made him chuckle. That was a pretty good thing, wasn't it? "Sounds good," he said easily. Clearly, he wasn't bothered by my legendary procrastination abilities. "Let me know, all right?"

"Okay," I said.

"Good night, Evans," he said.

"Good night, Potter," I responded.

Potter gave me a polite, empty little smile and walked faster down the corridor, away from me, and turned the corner. I, however, took my time and got to my dormitory much slower. Potter wasn't anywhere near when I approached.

So, glad to have a chance to kick back a little this evening, I pushed my bag to the corner and took a bath. While I was in there, I had an epiphany, which I'm about to fulfill right here in this diary.

I am going to make goals! For once in my life, I'm going to be organized, make goals, and actually follow through with them. It won't be like the other times. I swear, I'm going to be good about it. I'll log my progress and if I'm doing really well, maybe get myself a little treat so I stay on target. That'll keep me on-task.

I think I ought to have a vow. That way, I can make it more official and I'll follow it more. I dunno if it'll work, but it's worth a shot.

_I, Lily Evans, do hereby vow to execute the following goals, utilizing my self-control and determination to get something done, for once. If I do not make good progress in the course of this school year, Alice and Livvy have license to mock me for the rest of my life, which surely is a fate worse than death._

_Goals__:_

_1) Learn how to be a little more "proper" – stop sleeping so late, eating so much, procrastinating everything._

_2) Achieve excellent NEWT scores with as many O's as possible. If possible._

_3) Be a good Head Girl and do not quail under pressure. Do not forget to go to meetings or make Potter do the unpleasant work. Enforce whatever Professor McGonagall would like enforced._

_4) Make peace with James Potter. Friendship isn't necessary, but being solid acquaintances, at the very least, shall make for an infinitely more pleasurable experience for both parties. Take the first step, if Potter doesn't buck up and do it himself._

_5) Ensure that this year is as spectacular as it can possibly be._

I'm pretty proud of these goals, to be frank. I think they're pretty damn good, considering none of them have ever come true for me in the past. My OWLs had more E's than I would have liked and I am terrible about pressure and responsibility.

But this year is going to be different. I am ready to make a change. I'll surprise myself and make other people proud of me. Alice and Livvy will be very proud if I manage to wake myself up on time – they've had to help me for as long as I can remember and this year, I gave them my password so they can continue to help me.

They don't mind; but if given a choice, they would rather not wrestle me awake every morning. Who could blame them?

Well…the clock says it's 9:17. Because I'm lame, I'm probably going to conk out for the night. Have class tomorrow and very few subsequent chances to catch up on my sleep. Better make the most of this one.

'Night.

--

A/N: I am so out of my element. I haven't kept a real diary since I was twelve and the last diary story I tried doesn't count because it was a fail. I'm really sorry if this isn't exactly right just yet, but I'm trying and it'll get easier once the plot starts kicking in…which it should starting next chapter. I intend to write about the prefect meeting.

Please be gentle when you review, 'kay?

Xx


	3. I Meet the Prefects

A/N: Thanks for the positive input, guys. Why is it that when I'm performing mediocre, I still get people telling me I'm charming? One of the great mysteries of my life, I think. Hopefully, I'll be more deserving of that positivism in this chapter.

This is going to be one of those more "traditional" chapters – one long entry to serve as a chapter. But the prefect meeting is important, because it'll happen every month and once things settle in, the prefects will be quite a lot of fun.

So enjoy…I think.

Xx

--

September 6

**9:00 PM  
**_Status_: Slightly drained

Well, today is Friday. The end of the week. Somehow, I've made it! This is definitely something to be excited about. But I'm perhaps a little more apprehensive than I should be, because this weekend, I have got _way too much to do_. I need to get control of this situation.

The week did get a little better from Monday though. I kept sleeping late, but it went down by around two minutes each time – quite a fantastic feat, if I do say so myself. For this accomplishment, though, I have to thank Alice. She was very good about giving me a poke or two and getting me up, no matter how much I grumbled. She's an expert at this job; and thanks to her, my inner alarm clock is being a slightly nicer to me. It's a pretty good feeling, being able to eat a spot of breakfast before running off to Charms.

The homework front still needs work, but true to my goal, I'm handling it. Sort of. There's still a shit-load to do, but I mean, that's to be expected. At some point this weekend, I'll take care of it.

However, the event of the day that's really worth writing about is the prefect's meeting. To be frank, I very nearly forgot about it, but fortunately was reminded when Potter caught my eye around eight in the Great Hall. I'm generally not accustomed to such a thing happening on a day-to-day basis, but it came to me with a jolt, and I murmured my excuses to whoever I was with that I had to go. I ran like my arse was on fire – I could _not _be late to the first meeting.

McGonagall told me yesterday after class that the password is peppermint tea. I all but screamed this at her gargoyle, which took its sweet time revealing the door for me. When I finally got inside, I discovered that Potter was already there, along with all the prefects, who were lounging idly at the big table temporarily put in the middle.

Nine faces politely stared at me plopping my bum down on the chair and all I could think was, wow. How embarrassing.

"Erm…hi," I said, trying my best not to be awkward and smile like I wasn't the last one in the room. "Glad to see everyone's here. Ahem. Having a pleasant evening, then?"

"Hello, Evans," said Potter, pleasant as ever. "We're fine, thank you. Shall we get started?"

Since when was he the responsible one? I very nearly asked him that, his demeanor surprised me so much. But mercifully, I kept my mouth shut and gave him a tight little smile, which he took as an invitation to sit beside me and face the prefects. I copy him and face the waiting prefects as well.

"So, erm, we're all—"

"So! Welcome to the—"

Both of us began at the same time and immediately stopped, glancing uncertainly at each other. I chewed on my lip, embarrassed.

"You wanna—?"

"No, you can—"

He chuckled. "Okay. Let's start over. You go."

"You sure? Because you can go if you want…"

"I'm sure," he said steadily. "Go."

"Okay." I took a breath, smiling shyly at the grinning fifteen-year-olds before me. "Well…I'm Lily, the Head Girl, as you know."

"And I'm James," Potter cut in. "We're on a first name basis in this room. None of the last name crap."

"Right," I said. "So I think we ought to start by going around, saying what house you're in and what your name is."

Awkwardly, I pointed at the girl sitting on the other side of me. She had short blonde hair and brown eyes. "Can you start us off, please?"

"Sure," said the girl. She had a sweet, girlish sort of voice. "I'm Kate Patterson. Hufflepuff."

"I'm Will Stokely. Hufflepuff as well," said the guy next to her. He also had a sweet sort of voice, but it was manly enough to pass. "Hi."

"I'm Mavis Robbins," said the girl next to him, a nice-looking girl with curly brown hair. "Ravenclaw."

"And I'm Jonathon Sanders, also Ravenclaw." The boy beside her waved merrily to the rest of his. He had very bright blue eyes – unusually bright – and his demeanor was the most eager out of all the kids in the room.

"Annie Potent, nice to meet you," said a very serious young lady with straight black hair. She actually got up to shake my hand, which surprised me a bit. She shook James's hand too before she sat down. "I'm a Gryffindor," she announced.

"Erm…hi, Annie," I said, slightly bewildered.

Annie nodded. Her fellow Gryffindor companion, a boy with curly black-hair that got in his eyes, gave her a look before saying, "Trey Miller. Gryffindor."

"Hey," I said.

I turned to the two prefects who had not spoken yet – the Slytherin pair, a girl with pale golden hair and a boy with too-long brown hair. They looked more like nasty oil paintings than prefects, but I tried my best not to judge them too harshly. After all, they were younger than me and I had responsibility over them, even if it's slight.

"What are your names?" I asked them.

"Abigail Snyder," the girl drawled.

"Michael Fink." The boy had a distinctly nasally, arrogant tone to it. He surveyed me rather critically and I found myself instantly disliking him. Not a good first impression.

After Michael Fink informed us of his grand and mighty identity, the prefects turned their attention back to James and I. We were supposed to run the rest of the meeting. For some reason, I started blushing again.

"So…take it away, Potter," I said, more than eager to give away the leadership role.

"James," he corrected. "Well, it's good that we all kind of, sort of know each other's names. If you don't, that's fine, because we'll get to know them as the year goes on. But we do have some things we ought to chat about today regarding prefect duties. So…let's get this discussion started. I know you got a few instructions in your prefect letters, but I have no clue what they are because I was never a prefect."

A ripple of laughter. We all knew fully well that in fifth year, James Potter did not have the emotional capacity to handle any semblance of responsibility whatsoever. At least he had the good humor to smile about it.

He continued, "So someone tell me. What have you been told you have to do?"

At this, Annie Potent immediately raised her hand to speak. Potter – scratch that, _James _– gestured to her and at once, she stood up and launched into a list of things that were, word for word, from the prefect letter. I would know, because I still have mine. I gaped, open-mouthed, as she talked and I was not the only one. Annie Potent made us all feel like failures. I have little doubt in my mind that Annie Potent will make a fine Head Girl in two years.

When she was done, Annie sat primly back in her seat and gazed expectantly at me, completely ignoring the dumbfounded reactions of her peers. Mavis Robbins was staring at her like she was an alien from Mars and Michael Fink didn't bother even trying to hide his haughty appraisal.

I glanced around the table and caught Jonathon Sanders' blue eyes; he was grinning and unwillingly, I cracked a grin with him. Feeling bad, I cleared my throat and tried to retain order.

"Right," I said. "Thanks…Amy?"

"Annie," she corrected. "Annie Potent."

"Sorry," I said. "I'm awful with names. Give me a meeting or two and I'll get it, I promise."

"It's quite all right, Miss Evans," said Annie.

"Lily," James clarified. "We're on a first name basis here, Annie."

"I'm very sorry, James," said Annie immediately. "It slipped my mind. It won't happen again."

"It's…it's cool," I said, a bit uncertain. "So now that we've got all that out in the open, we have to fill you in on the balance of powers and make a rough schedule of patrols – because we aren't doing that one alone."

With this, I pulled a piece of parchment out of my bag, along with a quill and ink bottle. On the top of the page, I wrote, "Schedule." Potter – no, _James _watched me for a moment or two and then began brainstorming aloud. Annie Potent made no haste in joining the conversation, which slowly drew the other prefects in as well.

Generally, the girls were the best about volunteering themselves, but Jonathon Sanders was a happy exception to the rule – he chattered away merrily, offering lively comments to keep the conversation going when it faltered. He was nice to have around. I kind of had fun, writing down the schedule with them.

So that I remember later, here's what it looks like.

_Monday_

_First/second floors: Mavis and Jonathon  
__Third/fourth floors: Kate and Will  
__Fifth/sixth/seventh floors: Lily and James_

_Tuesday_

_First/second floors: Abigail and Michael  
__Third/fourth floors: Annie and Trey  
__Fifth/sixth/seventh floors: Lily and James_

_Wednesday_

_First/second floors: Mavis and Jonathon  
__Third/fourth floors: Kate and Will  
__Fifth/sixth/seventh floors: Lily and James_

_Thursday_

_First/second floors: Abigail and Michael  
__Third/fourth floors: Annie and Trey  
__Fifth/sixth/seventh floors: Lily and James_

_Friday_

_First/second floors: Mavis and Jonathon  
__Third/fourth floors: Kate and Will  
__Fifth/sixth/seventh floors: Lily and James_

_Saturday_

_First/second floors: Mavis and Jonathon  
__Third/fourth floors: Abigail and Michael  
__Fifth/sixth/seventh floors: Kate and Will_

_Sunday_

_First/second floors: Annie and Trey  
__Third/fourth floors: Abigail and Michael  
__Fifth/sixth/seventh floors: Kate and Will_

It's not perfect, but it's what we've got. While we were talking, Trey asked if we could switch up the prefects of other houses with the patrol – he said it was because he wanted to get to know the other prefects better, but it was obvious that he didn't particularly want to spend his time patrolling with Annie. I smiled, though, and told him that it would make life much easier if the order remained by house. Trey didn't complain, but he wasn't exactly pleased either.

We established a few other things, like being reasonable about point docking and detention giving (Michael Fink got a few special looks here from both Potter – _James! _– and I) and how any conflicts should be taken directly to the Heads. After we had all that out of the way, the meeting was pretty much over and we could leave.

The prefects took us up on this offer quite fast, Trey in particular bolting out of there as fast as he could. Annie, being dignified and amusingly mature for her age, gathered her things very carefully and marched out of McGonagall's office as if she was a teacher. Michael and Abigail left together, murmuring in an undertone to each other, and Mavis laughed at something Will said. Jonathon gave me a brief but brilliant smile on his way out, not speaking to anyone.

I stood up and stretched my arms out, yawning and gathering my wits together as well as my books. James hung around by the door, waiting for me, and we walked out of the office side by side. James was smiling.

"So…that was some meeting, huh?" he asked me.

"What? Sorry, yeah, it was," I said, shaking myself out of my reverie. Meetings always made me so tired.

"The new prefects seem like a decent bunch," said James. "Well, I mean, other than that Michael. I don't like him."

"He wasn't my favorite either," I admitted, "but he's only one."

"And that Annie Potent!" James started to laugh. "She's a real fun one. Trey's a lucky, lucky young man, being her fellow Gryffindor prefect. He looked like he swallowed a lemon when you told him he had to patrol with her!"

I rolled my eyes at him, smirking. "She's a nice girl," I said fairly. "She's very…diligent."

"You mean batty," snorted James.

"Don't be mean," I said.

"I'm not," he responded. "It's okay to be batty. It gets the work done, doesn't it?"

"It certainly does," I agreed.

"So no harm done." James continued to grin.

I didn't say anything. The two of us approached the staircase and got on it, since we were both going up to the seventh floor where our dormitories are. We didn't say anything else to each other, but it was a contented sort of silence – very casual rather than awkward. We arrived at our floor, said good-night, and went to our own dormitories. I'm here in mine now, changed into some pyjamas and writing about my evening.

Things are going all right at the moment. Sure, maybe I'd like it if I got more time to finish my homework or indulge in some girl-talk with Alice and Livvy, but it's fine. I'm handling it. I've successfully attended my first prefect's meeting, conducted it without dropping my ink pot on the ground or on myself, and had friendly conversation with James Potter. I have plenty to be grateful for.

I think I'm going to get a start on my Transfiguration essay before I retire to bed, then.

'Night.

--

A/N: Okay…so it's still not particularly riveting plot-wise. But give me a few more chapters to establish my characters and settings so that when things start to happen, it'll be natural. The beginning of the year is always a bitch, in real life as well.

Next two chapters are some more musings to establish a history on Severus and James as perceived by yours truly, and then we have another LJ scene. Then the chapter after that, we have some nice LJ development. It's all on the horizon, people. I promise.

So, as requested of you before, be gentle when you review – because you _will _be doing that, right?


	4. I Look Forward, Look Back

A/N: I am going to warn you right now – the way my outline is looking, the pace will be a little slow for the next few chapters. My reasoning for this? I want to make it nice and easy to start out, because I want to establish relationships and patterns and habits and things like that, get the story started out right so I can go places later without alienating you.

I know for me personally, the beginning of the year always feels kind of uneventful because I'm so busy adjusting to how everything's changed. But don't worry – it won't be _dreadfully _slow and I should hopefully retain your interest in this bumpy beginning period. I merely want to inform you beforehand so you don't get terribly annoyed with me.

Be open to something a little different than what you're used to and try to enjoy this, guys.

Xx

--

September 10

**8:15 AM  
**_Status_: Slacking off in Charms

This morning at breakfast has been a subject of rousing and passionate debate between Alice, Livvy and I.

Well, maybe not debate. But we certainly had a good discussion this morning at breakfast.

Today was Livvy's day to come and drag me out of bed, something she chose to do very early in the morning, meaning that I was awake in time for a leisurely breakfast with my friends. We three took seats at the Gryffindor table amongst the noise and clatter of metal utensils, tired but cheerful and considerably talkative.

"So…how are you two?" asked Alice, helping herself to some eggs. "Ready for class today?"

"Yes," said Livvy, satisfied. She had taken great pains to complete all her homework last night, because she's obsessive about keeping pace in coursework. Much more so than me or Alice, anyway. "I am definitely ready."

"Sorry, maybe I ought to have rephrased," said Alice. "Lils, are _you _ready for class today?"

Alice, like me, knows perfectly well that it's not even worth asking Livvy if she's prepared, because she will be. She always is. It's one of those things we differ on quite wildly.

"I suppose," I said with a sigh. "I'll have to do that History of Magic thing during lunch though. By eleven o'clock at night, I was _not _in the mood to discuss the importance of Uric the Oddball's various quirks. I did do the outline the essay though."

"That's something," said Livvy encouragingly, petting my shoulder.

"I did the essay, but I didn't write the antidote for Potions," grumbled Alice. "You wanna help me with that during lunch, Lils? I'm rubbish with antidotes. And Potions in general."

"Okay," I said. "Then can you proofread my essay, Liv?"

Livvy sighed. "Fine. But you owe me."

"Five Galleons of chocolates, whatever you want when we go to Hogsmeade," I promised her.

"Done," said Livvy. We have a three-way shake on it, nodding, before returning to our breakfasts. I, in particular, was starving, but that's nothing new.

Two hard-boiled eggs later, I took a swig of orange juice and then said, "So, you guys, I need your help with something."

"You're already in five Galleons of debt, plus the ice cream you owe me from last week – I don't think I can offer you any more help without feeling bad," said Livvy.

"You're an angel," I replied serenely, "but this is different. It's not essay proofing or anything."

"Excellent, I'm listening," said Alice.

"I…I've decided that I'm going to follow Livvy's example and shape up," I said. "I've come up with a list of seventh year goals. Made them the first night."

"Oh no, not another Livvy!" Alice groaned, her forehead in her palm. "No. I don't need another one of her."

"What's wrong with following my example?" inquired Livvy, raising an eyebrow. "I think it's a good thing. What exactly are these goals, Lils?"

"You know, things like not procrastinating, waking up on time, not eating so much," I said, managing to bite and swallow half of my sausage in one go. "Like studying for my NEWTs, following through with being a Head Girl, making sure I don't kill the Head Boy, making this a good year."

Alice surveyed me critically. "I see," she said. "And how exactly do you think you'll achieve these goals?" Her eyes flickered to my plate, which had been pretty full a couple of minutes ago. I grimace at her.

"By exercising my hidden abilities for self-control," I said. "I know there has to be a skinny, hard-working girl in me somewhere. I just have to find her."

"You're skinny and hard-working," Livvy said helpfully, petting my shoulder. "But you're right, putting limits on how much you eat and procrastinate would be a good thing. We'll definitely help you."

"Thank you," I said gratefully.

"We already wake you up in the morning, so there's one thing off your list," said Alice. "Livvy can go after your arse for homework. We'll all be studying for the NEWTs – and if we don't, McGonagall will be more than happy to go after our arses – and whenever you need to complain about being a Head, you know you have us."

"And I'll make sure you don't kill James," added Livvy.

"We'll motivate you through this," said Alice, a mad gleam emerging in her brown eyes. "It'll be great. You'll be responsible before you know it."

"Thanks," I said again, grinning. "Really. You're both wonderful. Alice, I take back everything I've said about you being a nosy, love-obsessed prat."

"Apology mostly accepted," said Alice easily, taking care to rumple my hair while her fingers were still sticky with jam. She ignored me when I gave her a Look and checked her watch.

"It's almost eight," she said. "Are you done stuffing your face, Lils, or can we go now?"

I grabbed a bread roll from the basket and got up. "Yes, I'm done now," I said. "Let's go."

With that, the three of us went to Charms, which is where I am at the moment. Flitwick thinks I'm taking really good notes on his current lecture, so he keeps smiling at me every so often as I scribble these lines. Alice smirks at me because she knows better. I feel bad for deceiving the poor guy. I should probably stop writing now…

**12:30 PM  
**_Status_: Eating

Flashback to half an hour ago…

Me: (Walking to lunch)

Pot – James: (Comes up behind me) Hi.

Me: (Jumps) Oh. Hi.

James: Hey, you got a sec?

Me: Erm…all right.

James: (Brings me to the side of the corridor to talk to me without getting trampled) Okay, you know how we have to do patrol every night?

Me: Yeah.

James: Well…I'm also the Quidditch captain and I'm going to be scheduling Quidditch practices two to three days a week.

Me: So…what? They're only, like, an hour or so. You can do them before dinner and be there in time for the patrol.

James: But then I don't know when I'm supposed to even attempt to think about homework.

Me: It's tough, but you can change things around. You _are _the Quidditch captain.

James: Yeah, I know. But I might still come a little late or leave a little early on Quidditch nights.

Me: We haven't even been here two weeks. Has Quidditch even started yet?

James: Well, no…I'm holding Gryffindor try-outs on the 16th and I wanted to let you know before I forgot. Do you think you could you cover for me?

Me: (Sigh) So long as you don't make me do the whole thing alone, I suppose I could—

James: Thanks so much, Lily. I really appreciate it. (Pets my shoulder) I knew you'd understand. (Walks off)

Me: …Wonderful.

I told Alice and Livvy about the new development once I got into the Great Hall. Alice chuckled and sympathized, because James's schedule is a little rough. Livvy sighed and agreed with Alice on the rough schedule bit.

I felt bad, but I was kind of annoyed about it – I hope he's going to get in touch with a more mature side of himself when it comes to skiving off a few minutes of patrol. I don't need him taking advantage of the sympathy.

Alice's advice: Give him the Quidditch days off.

Livvy's advice: Let him off early on Quidditch days.

I've decided on a medley of these proposals – we'll get one day off a month, in which the other has to cover for us, and he can be let off fifteen minutes early on Quidditch days. I think that's mighty fair. Livvy and Alice approve too.

I'll let him know when I next see him.

**12:44 PM  
**_Status_: Pleased

I told him. He's cool with it. He also invited me to watch the try-outs on the 16th. Hooray – everyone's a winner.

**3:25 PM  
**_Status_: Moody/brooding

Classes are out now. Finally. The last bell has rung and I have now safely retired to the common room, where I can either do my homework or indulge a bit. I'm doing some of both – I'm glancing at my Charms book as I write these lines. But I did want to write, because it's a good thing to do when I'm slightly stressed. And I am slightly stressed at present.

After my last class – History of Magic – I walked down the corridor, heading to the seventh floor, as usual. I was walking with Ashleigh Greene, an acquaintance of mine from Ravenclaw. Ashleigh recently got together with Forrest Bingham and was telling me all about how lovely he was, and I was listening, when by chance, I happened to catch a glimpse of Severus Snape at the end of the hall.

Snape. Severus Snape. Upon sight of him, my heart sank into my stomach and for a couple of critical, delicate seconds, I couldn't hear what Ashleigh was babbling about.

I recovered, of course. I tuned back into Ashleigh's story, laughed at her punch-line and bid her good-bye when I went in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. But when I got to be on my own, like right now, my heart collapsed right back to my stomach and I feel awful.

Severus and I used to be friends. Good friends, actually. We weren't very close until we got to Hogwarts; but when we got here, even though we weren't in the same house, he was my only friend for a while.

The fact of the matter was that I trusted him. I did. He was the one to tell me I was a witch; he told me about the Wizard world; he comforted me when I worried; he assured me Petunia was talking through her hat when she called me a freak. We took walks on the castle grounds in the evenings when homework was light (a privilege I sorely miss these days).

I told him all of the fickle dreams an eleven-year-old nurses and he listened, then told me all of his. He was a depressed kid for a long time and I talked him through it, to a degree.

By the end of first year, I was pretty well-settled and had more friends, and that number only ever increased afterwards, but Severus and I kept drifting further and further apart. He would ask me to take a walk on a Hogsmeade day, but someone else would've already made plans to spend the day with me and I would have to tell him no. He started hanging out with people I wasn't comfortable around. He made me uncertain sometimes and he changed. He denied it, tried to tell me everything was fine, but I knew it wasn't. I'm sure that somewhere, deep down, he knew it too.

Despite the rift threatening to separate us, I thought we could remain friends. I thought we could maintain our relationship. I didn't want to let it go, because to me, Severus represented that uncertain pre-adolescent period when I was young and naïve and needed someone on my side. I don't know what I would've done if it wasn't for him. I thought I owed him, in a weird sort of way, for being the friend he was to me.

But all of that optimism died at the end of fifth year.

It was a typical day by the lake in early summer, after exams were done for the day. I was with Alice, Livvy, Mary Macdonald, and a few other people, dipping our toes in the lake and talking about holiday plans, when the Marauders were up to their usual antics. One of their favorite hobbies (which has mercifully since ceased in recent times) was taunting Severus and James was up to it again, this time hanging him upside down to let everyone get a look at his underwear.

It was childish. I know it was. James was the king of childishness, striving for attention because it made him feel important. He was a pampered little kid who knew what he wanted and how he was going to get it. Severus hadn't a quarter of his confidence and that made him an easy target. When I saw what was going on, I felt a rush of anger, because it wasn't fair that James thought it his God-given right to mercilessly torture anyone he deemed unworthy.

I stood up for Severus. I told James to shove off and told him what I thought of him. I thought I was doing the right thing, standing up for an old friend, but then he did the unthinkable:

He called me a Mudblood.

I remember just being in shock for a second or two. Mudblood. He called me Mudblood. He, who told me it was okay to Muggleborn, that I was going to be wonderful, that everything would be okay, he called me a Mudblood.

It ran much deeper to me than a slipped insult. I don't know why, but it did. It made me see we really were different, that we really couldn't be friends anymore because he stood for something I could never accept. I stalked off and refused to accept his apology and from then on, we haven't spoken. Somehow, we take pains to avoid it.

The incident and its repercussions were not pretty. They weren't ideal, not in the least. They hurt me and every time I see him, a little shadier everyday, I still think back to the nervous, hopeful little kid that took me in and showed me what to do; and it makes me sadder than I can say.

This mood will pass, I know, when I look to the pile of homework I have waiting for me this evening. I'll be perfectly all right, laughing with Alice at Livvy's latest OCD behavior, but the ache will never truly go away. Severus is a part of me, no matter what he chooses to become, I keep with me memories of how it used to be.

I've always had the hardest time letting things (and people) go. It's a weakness I fully attest to and sometimes wish I could overcome. But I guess this is how it has to be and I can't do anything about it. It's done, over, through. Sorry, try again later. Or never.

I see Livvy coming into the Portrait Hole. She looks like she has something to tell me. I think at the moment, I'd like to listen.

--

A/N: Next chapter – the Quidditch try-outs. Next two chapters after the next chapter – some general fun and LJ development. Yay!

Keep being awesome and I would appreciate some kindness when you tell me what I've done wrong. What? My ego is so unpredictable.

Review button is right down there.


	5. I Watch Quidditch Try Outs

A/N: This chapter should be nice and easy – Quidditch try-outs and James musings – and the next should be full of the general nonsense in a teenage girl's life, plus a James scene. Chapter 7 should make you guys pretty happy because it's predominantly LJ development.

I know, I know, you want romance and you want it _now_; but I am a loser when it comes to pacing and I insist that nothing major should happen to start, because the year is still pretty new. Plus, there's more to life than a love story. This diary isn't just about James – it's about seventh year in general. That means I can focus on other stuff too.

Rant over. Here's the chapter. Cheers!  
Xx

--

September 16

**Morning Check:**  
Today is the first official day of checking up on my goals, because I just remembered having them last night. Right now, I am focusing on waking up on time.

This morning was moderate. I did get to class on time, but it was close, because Livvy forgot my portrait's password and Alice went off to the library to do homework, which Livvy was not aware of. She got in there eventually, though, and I got to Charms with ten seconds to spare. I will need to work on that.

Livvy wrote my password inside her Transfiguration textbook so she won't forget again. She has sworn no one will steal it to stalk my dormitory.

**3:30 PM**  
_Status_: Thoughtful

It's the sixteenth of September today, which means James's Quidditch try-outs are this afternoon, after class. He had invited me, but I wasn't actually going to go. I ended up having to go anyway, though, because Livvy wanted to try for her spot as Keeper (she's been Keeper since third year) and she begged us to come cheer her on. Alice and I had no choice once she used those puppy-brown eyes on us.

For once, it's a nice, late-summery day outside. The wind is present, but it's not tousling my hair as much as usual. I can write in here without having the pages flapping all over the place. Well, they're still flapping, but it's not too bad. According to Livvy, these are perfect conditions for flying and I trust her as the Quidditch expert.

At the moment, there's not much going on. Alice is ignoring us all in favor of Jeremy from Potions, because she needs help with her homework and she couldn't understand it when I tried to explain it. I'm up here on the stands, of course, and Livvy is waiting for her try-out. She is hanging back on the side, watching the Beaters fly. Her turn comes afterwards.

James is sitting on the scoreboard near the teachers section of the stands. He's got a clipboard in his hands. You know someone's in business when he's got a clipboard. He's watching the Beaters with a crease between his eyebrows, totally dead serious. He's writing something down with an enormous eagle-feather quill. That makes two of us, I guess. But he's not writing about me and I'm writing about him.

I dunno why I'm writing about him, to be honest. It feels weird to me, but also not-weird. Weird because I've never been close to him and don't think I ever will be, but not-weird because I've known him forever and he's a bit of a fixture in my life. He's one of those people that I have a significant running history with and I dunno…it's easy writing about him. There's plenty to say.

I met him in first year. Self-explanatory. But I have to say it, because there are lots of people that I'm friends with now that I wasn't friends with in first year – Livvy is actually one of them. James established himself as a person to watch very early on and I did, I watched, and I'm not sure yet whether or not I am happy about that. It's been a strange, complicated, multi-layered ride to get where we are now.

In first year, I was indifferent but a little opposed to him. In second year, I knew him better and I found him morbidly interesting. I ended up with an enormous crush on him for a few months – you know, the kind where you try to sit near him in class, talk to his friends in the hopes he'll talk to you too, bring him up in everyday conversation, doodle his name and sigh about him to your friends. Alice, my confidant, told me that we looked good together and I ought to ask him out. I never had the guts to, much to her displeasure.

I got over the crush pretty fast, though, in third year. Why? Because it was in third year that James Potter discovered that I was indeed a living, breathing young lady with unusual hair and female sex organs. He began including me in his group of female fan-girls and teased me all the time, about my nose and my boobs and how small my hands are.

Needless to say, I was disillusioned to his charms very, _very _quickly after that.

Unfortunately for me, though, Alice was not and insists to this day (as witnessed on my first night back) that we have chemistry. She maintains that we're cute together. I don't know how she can possibly think this, after all he put me through in third, fourth, and fifth year. I mean, she watched him give me water-squirting flowers and accidentally throw rat spleens in my face and try to grope my arse. She watched it all happen! She watched him humiliate me, bother me to the point where I would be within my rights to report him for harassment. And yet, she never lost faith in us.

I lost faith in us two years ago, on a bright summer's day in early June. It was the day Severus called me a Mudblood and disconnected our childhood bond, the day I took an exam I got an O on, the day I said some things I didn't consider to be so hurtful until the day after. It wasn't supposed to be such a monumental day in my life, but that's what it was and I find that the ripples settling today were started by a stone thrown that one silly afternoon.

The fact of the matter is, James and I fell apart from then on. He was quiet, quieter than I'd ever seen him, in the days that followed. Instead of trying to win a hug from me like usual on the last morning, he gave me an acknowledging nod and walked right past me. All summer, I never forgot that look on his face and I must have dissected it a million times over, but never understood it.

In sixth year, when I saw him again, he was a whole different person, both him and Sirius. It's said that Sirius had a falling out with his family and James was the one to take him in, save him. It's said that James was having issues with his own family and someone finally cracked down on him, made him think about his future.

I don't know if any of this is true. Neither James nor Sirius talk about it with anyone. But it makes sense, because James went from absolute clown to the average, funny guy in class. His pranking went down, way down, and although he continued to pursue girls, he left me alone. He joked, of course, because that's an irrepressible part of his character, and he teased me still, but it wasn't like old times. Not at all. And that's kind of where the bulk of our story ended, leaving us here, in seventh year, stuck together being Heads.

Watching him now, talking to Tom White about something, he seems harmless. Ordinary. You don't think about him that much. But when you're me, all sorts of things come to mind, looking at that face, that mad soul encased in that body.

I remember how he talked about me when he thought I wasn't listening, how he paid people a Knut to tell him a good joke, how he almost cried the day his first-year girlfriend (Tristan Dristler) dumped him in favor of someone else. I remember when, during one of his Quidditch celebration parties, he conned a dance out of me and told me he fancied me.

I remember good things (because contrary to popular belief, he wasn't _all _bad around me) and I remember things that annoyed me. There are some of the former and many of the latter. There are some I'm not decided on.

I'm not bitter about any of it. We calmed down eventually, stopped picking quite so many fights and recognized our abundant differences. I don't regret a lot of it. I just want this year to go smoothly so we don't leave hating each other or anything.

Well, now it's time for Livvy to try out. She's getting on her broom. I'd better pry Alice away from Jeremy and go support her – Livvy was kind of nervous this morning and would probably appreciate her best friends screaming her loveliness from the stands.

Until later, then.

--

A/N: This was quite short. I hope the next one won't be. The one after shouldn't be. Please review anyway?


	6. I Spend a Day at Hogsmeade

A/N: This chapter is just random, Hogsmeade fun. A girl's afternoon off. But to balance it out, there's a James scene in here too. Length is meant to make up for the shortness of last chapter.

Epic fail on reviewing as well. Please do keep doing that – a sentence or two will make me more than happy. I mean, how else am I supposed to know when I'm screwing up?

Enjoy though, guys!  
Xx

--

September 18

**Morning Check:**

This morning, I was too late to eat breakfast but I got to class on-time (albeit hungry). I blame this on Alice. She forgot to wake me up, the silly girl. With all her talk of motivation and oh-it's-okay-don't-worry-Lily-I'll-wake-you-up-in-the-morning-when-Livvy-doesn't, she really will be the death of my goal.

**4:25 PM  
**_Status_: Mellow

Today, Saturday, is the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year. It happens to fall on a fair day – a little cloudy with significant wind – and anyone who's anyone bundles up in a sweater or something and flees to the village. The seventh years are particularly happy to go because it gives them an excuse not to do our plentiful homework. I'm going to have this stuff pouring out of my ears before I know it.

Alice, Livvy and I went to The Three Broomsticks, like we always do when we need a break. James announced the final line-up for the Quidditch team in the morning and, again, Livvy made it as Keeper. Our first duty in the village was to celebrate – two rounds of drinks on Alice. I still owed Livvy five Galleons, so I bought her some cheesecake as a down payment. She ate it happily as we chatted away.

Me: So, you excited for practice, Liv?

Livvy: Kind of. I mean, Gryffindor's first match isn't really until November, but James wants us to start right away.

Alice: What's the point of that?

Livvy: He told he wants a month of conditioning.

Alice: Like, getting you in shape?

Livvy: Yeah. He talks a lot about making us run laps, but I'm sure he's got plenty of other stuff in mind. He's dead serious about this whole thing.

Me: Wow. Gross. I'm glad I'm not you.

Livvy: No, but I love it. Quidditch is fun. I'm sure the conditioning will help me more than it will hurt me.

Alice: Let's see you say that after a couple of those practices, Liv.

Livvy: (sighs) I'm an optimist. What can I say?

Alice: You can say…hey, those guys over there are really cute.

Livvy and me: (turn)

Me: That's Amos Diggory and Tyler Rezzin.

Livvy: Is it just me, or did Amos get taller and hotter over the summer?

Me: It's not just you. He did.

Alice: What house is Tyler in?

Me: Hufflepuff.

Alice: Why are all the cute guys Hufflepuffs?

Livvy: Frank isn't.

Alice: Frank doesn't count. I've known him since before Hogwarts – besides you guys, he's my best friend. I can't think of him as cute.

Livvy: But he is.

Alice: When I look at Frank, I see him at five years old, playing in dirt and eating mud.

Livvy: That must be really attractive.

Me: Wow. Amos looks great. Did he cut his hair?

Alice: No, he grew it. But it's fabulous, isn't it?

Livvy: I dare you to go hit on him, Alice.

Me: Great idea!

Alice: Not a great idea. I'm not going to flirt with Amos! He's going out with Sarah Emerson.

Me: Sarah Emerson broke up with him the day we came back to school because she needed space. You're in the clear.

Alice: No I'm not, because yesterday, Sarah Emerson wanted him back and asked him out.

Livvy: I heard he said no because he wanted space too.

Alice: But then he said yes in the evening because he felt bad. He likes Sarah.

Livvy: But he only said yes because he pitied her. Not because he still has feelings for her.

Me: I'm confused.

Livvy: Go hit on him, Alice. He's girlfriend-less. And he'd probably thank you – Sarah Emerson is a right prat.

Alice: That she is. You win. I'll talk to him.

Me and Livvy: Go, go, go!

With this, Alice got up from the table and approached Amos Diggory. Giggling, Livvy and I watched as Alice said hello to Diggory and Rezzin, her smile classic Alice – wide, genuine. Once introductions were made (Rezzin doesn't know us personally, but we know who he is) Alice turned all her attention to Diggory, asking him how his summer went, leaning in close to him and laughing at everything he said.

It's always funny watching Alice flirt. She's actually quite adorable – she twirls her hair on her finger, smiles a lot, her eyes brighten and her voice becomes smoother than silk. She's not the loud, giggly person she is at all other times. The transformation is certainly an interesting one.

Livvy: So how do you think she's doing?

Me: Pretty well. He's laughing – that's either a really good sign or a really bad one.

Livvy: Rezzin is getting bored and leaving. That must mean Alice has stolen all of Diggory's attentions. It's a good sign.

Me: If you're such a good relationship decoder, why don't you have a boyfriend, Liv?

Livvy: Because I don't fancy anyone. When I do, don't worry, you'll be the first to know.

Me: I'm counting on it.

At this point, Alice excused herself for one minute to come back to Livvy and me.

Alice: I'm going to take a walk around the village with Diggory, all right? I've had way too much estrogen for one day. No offence.

Me: None taken. Have you got a date with him already?

Alice: Sort of. He's ditching Sarah Emerson for me, anyway.

Livvy: Alice, you heart-breaker.

Alice: It wasn't my idea – _he _asked _me_. That makes it okay on my end.

Me: However you want to rationalize it, you can go. Why are you telling us?

Alice: Because I didn't want you to be surprised by the fact that I'm ditching you like Diggory is ditching Sarah Emerson.

Livvy: Kind of you.

Me: Bye, Alice. Enjoy yourself.

Alice: Will do. See you later!

And then she left, walked out the door with Amos Diggory. They didn't hold hands, but I could tell Diggory was considering it, letting his hand drift close to Alice's but then taking it back. Alice was too busy telling him something or another to notice. I pointed this out to Livvy and she chuckled.

After Livvy ate her cheesecake and finished her drink, the two of us went to Honeydukes. There, Livvy found some malted milk-chocolate balls that melted _and _fizzed in your mouth when you ate them. They were a little on the expensive side, and she normally wouldn't fork out the gold to indulge herself (Livvy's anal about money, too) but as I owed her, I had the distinct pleasure of getting her malted chocolate balls.

But, because Livvy's a nice girl, she let me have one too. They were quite a good investment.

Together, we raided Honeydukes for more goodies. Livvy bought a chocolate bar and I bought two chocolate bars, a Sugar Quill, a few licorice wands, and a bag of chocolate peppermint. I have a notorious sweet-tooth and Livvy snickered at me as I munched on the peppermint on our way out the door.

"Don't you have a goal about cutting down your chocolate consumption?" she asked me.

"No, but I have one about cutting down my general consumption," I said.

Livvy looked pointedly at the bag of candy I had in my hand. I glanced at it too. It was pretty full.

"Well…I mean, this is the first Hogsmeade weekend," I rationalized. "I don't do this every time I go to Honeydukes."

"Yes you do," corrected Livvy.

"But this year, I won't, right?" I said. "I have a goal to keep. Today is more of a grace period, because I'm not yet used to giving up my old ways. I need a last binge before I'm good for real."

"Lily Evans, you have a problem," said Livvy.

"Olivia Harris, you are such a wonderful person, but I am _not _listening to you this time," I said.

"Give me the chocolate bar," she said.

"Then you owe me another when we next come back to Hogsmeade," I countered.

"Deal," said Livvy. "I'm only trying to help you, Lils."

"And I appreciate that, Liv, but…I like chocolate," I said lamely. "I'll be better after today, I promise."

"I will make sure of it," said Livvy. "But hey, I have to pee real fast. Can we go to the bathroom?"

"Sure," I said.

Livvy and I escaped to the back of the shop where the restrooms were and we both went into the ladies one. I had the simple intention of waiting inside for her, nothing more; but when I got inside, Livvy and I stumbled upon two blonde teenagers snogging the bloody hell out of each other against the wall, the boy's hand coming up from underneath the girl's skirt. Livvy and I stopped dead.

The two realized the door had opened and disentangled to see who it was. The girl had faded lipstick all around her mouth, giving her a very bruised look. The boy's hair was very rumpled, but I still recognized him.

"Michael?" I asked in astonishment.

"Oh, it's you," he said rather nastily. "Evans, right?"

"Lily," I corrected, remembering James's first-name rule.

"You two know each other?" The girl Michael had been snogging had a very breathy, confused sort of voice.

"Yeah, but don't worry about it, Sandy," said Michael. "She's just the Head Girl."

"The…the Head Girl?" Sandy was even more worried. "You aren't going to give me a detention or anything, are you?"

"No," I said. "I was…I was just…"

"Are you stupid, Sandy?" snapped Michael. "What's she going to give you a detention for, bringing a boy into the girl's bathroom?"

Stung, I retorted, "Maybe I couldn't give her one for that, but I could give you one for being in contempt of the Head Girl."

Michael raised an eyebrow. He clearly didn't believe me. This rather annoyed me.

"Five points from Slytherin for being insubordinate," I said. "Now please find another place to indulge your whims, preferably one of your dormitories. Otherwise maybe I will give you a detention."

Michael rolled his eyes, unperturbed, and took Sandy with him out of the bathroom. Livvy turned to look at me, astonished.

"Who was he?" she asked the moment the door closed.

"Michael Fink," I said. "Slytherin prefect."

"Blimey, _he's _the prefect?" Livvy wrinkled her nose. "What rubbish. He's such a rat."

"Ah, well," I said.

"Good authority skills though, Lil, I'm proud of you," commented Livvy.

"Thank you."

"No problem." Livvy eyed the bathroom stall. "Hey, I'm going to go pee now."

I snorted. "You do that, Liv."

"Cheers."

With this, Livvy retreated into a bathroom stall and once she came out (after washing her hands _three times_, because she's weird) we left Honeydukes after about five minutes. Then she asked me if I had done my homework. Guiltily, she pressed me until I admitted to not having done my History of Magic essay and she flipped. I don't know why Livvy is so anal about homework – it's good to be on top of it, but Livvy takes that _way _too far – but she shuttled me back to the castle to finish the essay. She actually sat down with me as I finished it.

Well, I finished the essay and it was too late to go back to the village, so Livvy floated off to read a book and I settled down to write in this diary. Alice still isn't back yet. I hope she and Diggory are having fun – but not too much fun. I don't want to walk into another bathroom and discover _them _in there.

I hear Livvy coming back down the stairs. Something about not being able to find one of her purple fuzzy socks with the heart on the heel. I wore a purple shirt yesterday – had I borrowed it by mistake and forgotten to give them back?

I tell her I didn't and now she's going back up to the dormitory to search again. Livvy has really small feet, so I usually don't borrow her socks unless I really have to. Besides, I wore a pink shirt yesterday. Didn't I?

**4:35 PM  
**_Status_: Embarrassed

Scratch that last. Upon further investigation of the case of Livvy's purple socks, I happened to glance down at my feet.

I am wearing two faintly different socks I had fished out of my clothes pile from yesterday. I turned my heel a little and caught a glimpse of a little pink heart on my left heel.

Damn. Sorry, Livvy.

**8:30 PM  
**_Status_: Slightly disconcerted

I am about to start my homework (I am _so _late…) but I figured a few more minutes of procrastination won't kill me. That's why I'm writing in here. It's the one thing I do that doesn't make me feel bad for not doing something else.

I mean, it's not like I'm really _wasting_ time or anything. I'm documenting the innermost thoughts of my private soul. It's introspection, which is the key to making sure you don't go mental. That has to count for something.

Anyway, after I returned Livvy her socks, Alice bounced back to the Gryffindor common room to me. She told me she'd had a wonderful time hanging around Diggory, but they bumped into Sarah Emerson later, who was still quite hurt that Diggory had snubbed her so overtly. She dragged him off, so Alice was forced to return to me. I told her it was a right honor and she laughed.

We had dinner together at seven and then we came back here. Livvy decided to take an early night because James wants an early morning conditioning day for Quidditch tomorrow. Why he wants to do this on a Sunday morning is beyond us all three of us. She's up in bed because all her homework is actually done.

Shortly after Livvy trooped upstairs, however, Alice (who didn't finish her homework) decided she wanted an early night as well, so she's also gone upstairs. I have to be in the common room for a bit longer, though. I want to finish a few things before I retire for the night. I tend to work best during the nights, for some reason. Don't ask me why.

The girls left me around seven forty-five and I began work on my Transfiguration stuff. I hadn't been working five minutes when James comes waltzing in through the Portrait Hole. I heard the door open, but I didn't particularly care who was there until James plopped down on the seat next to mine at the corner table. I glanced up to his intensely hazel eyes staring down at me and jumped violently.

"Blimey, Potter, don't _do _that!" I complained. "Tap my shoulder so I know you're there."

"It's James," he corrected.

"Sorry," I said. "Force of habit."

Actually, I was telling the truth. I've been reprimanding him with use of his last name for years now. Even if I'm getting used to using his name in regular conversation, the lecturing side of me hasn't gotten used to the first-name rule just yet.

"I know," he said. "It's all good."

"So what's so urgent that you had to scare me half to death?" I asked.

"Well, I remembered with a jolt that we're supposed to start patrolling on Monday," said James, "and since you hadn't approached me about it already, I figured I'd come talk to you about it before I forgot again."

"Fuck!" I shouted instinctively. "I completely forgot about that!"

James grinned. "That was my first reaction too, believe it or not."

For some reason, I blushed. I seem to be blushing a lot in the presence. I don't know why. But he laughed and I said, "Right. Our three week grace period is over now. We really ought to get the timing and whatever else worked out."

"Right," he said, "and now that I've got my team together, I have a better idea how practices are going to work."

"Well, we have weekends off, because the prefects are taking over," I said.

"Yeah, but I'm only going to do practices on weeknights because I have to catch up with my sleep and homework at _some _point," said James. "I was thinking practice about five to six thirty, so we could get inside for dinner, homework, and bed."

"Every night?" I was aghast.

"No, no!" he assured me. "I'm thinking two nights a week for now, three nights when we get closer to match-time. That won't be for a while yet, but I want to get started right off the bat, get the team going."

"I understand," I said. "Now, we're only supposed to patrol nine to ten thirty, an hour and a half after everyone's supposed to be in bed. The teachers take over afterwards or something. That means you do have a _little _time for your work – you do have a couple of free periods, as well as a half hour or so if you shower and eat quickly."

"I get fifteen minutes leeway time either end, you said," James reminded me. "If I leave fifteen minutes earlier, that would be brilliant." He considered. "Or, let's make it even. A half hour. Could you possibly let me off a half hour early, at ten?"

"James, we only patrol an hour and a half," I said. "We have two whole floors to do. How am I supposed to cover on my own?"

"Nobody ever wanders the top floors anyway – the kitchens and broom cupboards are all downstairs," said James. "C'mon, Lily, please?"

"Fifteen minutes is the most I can give you," I said, "and even that's being generous. I mean, you're supposed to help me. This is a duty."

"Quidditch is a duty too," he said.

"But you aren't skiving off that, are you?" I arched an eyebrow. "And you aren't the only one with homework. I've got the same amount as you do, remember?"

"This is only two nights a week," said James, slightly manic. "I swear, I'll be there every other day for every minute of the patrol. It's just…I am thoroughly behind on my homework because I didn't understand half of it and I haven't the faintest idea what McGonagall's been saying for the past three days during class. I'm tired and my friends are in the same boat. I spent this whole day sleeping because I haven't been doing much of that lately. I'm a little desperate. Can't you give me a small break somewhere?"

"James, the only reason I have even close to most of my homework done is because I've been up until two ever since we got back," I said, feeling an awkward sense of pity, discomfort, and oddly enough, superiority. The guy was desperate. "You've got to remember, I'm in exactly the same boat. I told you fifteen minutes would do it, but any more than that…"

"_Please_?" He was practically pleading with me, poor bloke. It couldn't be easy for him, but that's what he was doing, staring at me with those beseeching hazel eyes of his, and asking me to cut him some slack.

Normally, I would try to hold strong and put my foot down, tell him enough is enough and stop being a baby and come in for the whole damn patrol if you keep bargaining with me. But somehow, with him looking at me as he was, I couldn't do it. I couldn't be in control. I sighed in defeat.

"Oh all right fine," I allowed. "But if you even try asking me to take more time off for any reason, the answer will be a resounding no, you hear?"

"I hear you," said James delightedly. "Blimey, _thank you_, Lily. You have no idea how much that means to me."

I fought back an unwilling little smirk at his eagerness. He was like a little puppy sometimes. "You'd best not to be late for patrolling on Monday night," I said. "We're meeting in the Entrance Hall."

"You got it," he chirped. "Sounds great. Thanks again!"

He got up and threw his arms out in front of him in what was apparently quite a grand gesture. Then he stood there, with his arms out, grinning broadly at me. I looked up confusedly at him.

"What?" I asked.

"I wanted to give you a celebratory thank-you hug," he said, face falling ever so slightly, arms not doing anything of the sort.

"Oh," I said, going pink again. "_Oh_. My bad. Here." I stood up as well and wrapped my arms gingerly around his neck and gave him a stiff, careful hug. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine," he said. He wasn't nervous or anything of the sort – he hugged me tightly, naturally, and held me there for several seconds before releasing me, his expression bright. "Thanks again, Lily. I appreciate this more than I could tell you."

"It won't be an issue, so long as you don't give me any trouble otherwise," I said.

"I won't," he promises me. "Don't worry. Anything else you need, just let me know."

"You can be sure of that," I said with a smirk.

"Right…so now that that's taken care of, I suppose I'll catch you later," he said. "See you around, Lily?"

"You'll have to – I'm in your house _and _your year," I pointed out.

"True." He chuckled. "Bye. And thanks again."

"Stop thanking me or I might have to rethink my kindness," I teased.

He laughed as he walked away and left me alone.

I must say, though, talking to James is a surreal experience. He's so casual and easy to be around. It's something I'm not used to, a side of him I'm meeting for the first time. Whether that's my fault or his can endlessly be debated I'm sure, but I'm still the slightest bit disconcerted.

He acts like nothing ever happened between us, like nothing worth considering occurred between us. Maybe that's progress, maybe that's not; but I did want to write about it, turn it over in my head a couple of times so it's not as confusing. Turns out I'm just as confused as I was when he turned around and left.

It's getting scarily close to nine o'clock though and I haven't done a thing since James interrupted me. I'd better get going. I want to be functioning and coherent at a decent hour tomorrow, preferably before noon.

'Night, then.

--

A/N: Review away, darlings!


	7. I Go on my First Patrol

A/N: I seem to be getting this more often than usual for this story, for some reason, so I am going to have a quick little rant on characterization before continuing. Don't worry, it's not too bad. And I don't plan on any other rants in the near future. So here we go—

Guys, this is Marauder era. We weren't given a wealth of information from the books on it. When you fic something, you are basically using Jo's vague sketch as an outline for your own character. Maybe my character isn't exactly the same as your character. That's okay. I am fairly confident (for once) that I'm doing this all right character-wise and I wanted to establish that, because people are telling me I'm OoC.

This fic is different from what I usually like to do. I'm lighter and more cheerful than I generally am. I know I have this habit of overcomplicating things, but for once, that's not the case. When things get a little more serious – which they do later – I'll be as angsty and poetic as you want. However, life is more than an angst-filled ride and I refuse to believe characters/people can be pinned down into a little personality-box and kept inside there all the time. Life is no fun if you don't push the envelope a little bit.

The rant is over now, but just keep it in mind as you read, 'kay?

Enjoy. This chapter is fun. For me, anyway.  
X

--

September 20

**Morning Check:**

Getting up in the morning today wasn't so hard. But that's because I was up most of the night anyway, tossing and stressing and turning and wondering how in the name of Merlin my workload is going to decrease.

I didn't get much sleep, but in a burst of jittery energy, I finished most of the essays I have due this week. And it's only Monday morning.

Either I'm brilliant or going slightly insane. Will get back to that when am more coherent.

**2:57 PM  
**_Status_: !!!

Homework for today…

_Transfiguration_: Master furniture-animal transformations for quiz tomorrow. Finish essay on the Space and Time Continuum Theory for tomorrow.

_Charms_: Master evaporation charm for water _and _other liquids.

_Potions_: Write the essay on antidote materials for day after tomorrow. Take notes on Chapter 2, all six sections, in preparation for Felix Felicis tomorrow. Finish up essay on the properties of dragon blood for tomorrow.

_History of Magic_: Take notes on Chapters 2 and 3 on the history of house elves. Skip sections 2.4 and 2.5.

_Runes_: Translate packet – all 8 pages. To be checked for points tomorrow.

_Herbology_: Write essay on care for mating Venomous Tentacula and how they care for their young. Read the sections on advanced bobutuber techniques for tomorrow.

_Defense of the Dark Arts_: Read the sections on non-verbal jinxes and prepare for the Jelly Legs Jinx for tomorrow. Finish essay on undoable jinxes and the reason behind them for day after tomorrow.

If there really is a Higher Power up there, I am sure He/She is laughing at me right about now. I am miserable**.**

If Livvy wants me to actually finish all this tonight, she's mad. Really just quite barking mad.

**10:32 PM**  
_Status_: Shaken

As to my remark this morning…my answer to that is official.

I am not going slightly insane:

I am going _completely _insane.

I'm currently about to blow my head off freaking out, but I know I need to go back to the beginning, before the madness began, so I can get it all straight and hopefully figure out what to do about it. And I need to calm down. My mum always said that being excited as well as being stressed is a recipe for my disaster. She's probably right.

So…tonight. Here's how it all went down.

As referenced above, I have homework to do. A lot of it. And I'm not quite sure how I'm supposed to finish it. Livvy, being my personal angel sent from heaven, has helped me ease the pressure during my free period, and after classes got out, but I have a lot to do yet and it's worrying me.

All I can think about is how I'm supposed to do it; but then when I get down to seriously finishing it, I just can't. I shy away, hating myself for it but doing it anyway, and I feel guilty all over again for not being on-task.

I'm not built to handle pressure. I'm just not. So tonight, when I had to go to my patrol at nine, as planned, I was feeling hectic and frantic and, as mentioned this morning, miserable. I knew I had to get on-task and put in that last burst of work before I could retire for the night, but I knew quite well I wouldn't do a thing when I got back.

It made me feel sick to my stomach, my drive and my laziness battling each other with the backdrop of my two intestines, and there was nothing I could do about it. That triggered this vast sense of helplessness in me – another lovely human emotion to add to my list of them.

And then, on top of all that, I was patrolling with _James Potter _for the first time this year, spending alone time with him for what has to be the first time in our lives. That added its own stress and it was considerable – enough to have me feeling quite panicked as I excused myself from Livvy and Alice at nine o'clock for my very first patrol.

Despite the questionability of my mental health, I did meet James and the prefects by McGonagall's office, as I was supposed to. Tonight, James, Will, Kate, Mavis, and Jonathon had the patrol with me. We dispersed to our assigned spots, James and I going upstairs to start at the sixth floor, and we began to walk, our footsteps particularly echo-y and weird because there weren't a million rampaging feet running to class. I attempted to nurse my poor, wounded stomach as we went because I was nervous and was starting to feel physically sick because of it.

I must have looked sick, because right off the bat, James asked me, "Are you all right, Lily?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I assured him in a voice that was probably not very fine-sounding. "Thanks for asking."

James nodded. He totally didn't believe me. "Right…so…well, I haven't really talked to you since last year, have I?"

No, no he hadn't. He actually hadn't "really talked" to me for much longer than that, but I wasn't about to point out the discrepancy. I only nodded, trying to be polite.

"Yeah, we haven't," I agreed.

"So what have you been doing?" he asked. "How was your summer?"

He seemed really genuine about it. He was staring me down with those eyes of his, bright and earnest and so damn _hazel_. They were almost intimidating, because they gave their attention away overtly, without hesitation. I keep blushing when I'm around him, because I can't help but wonder if he treats every girl this way.

"My summer was fine," I said. "I mostly hung around at home, talked to Alice and Livvy, and did our plentiful summer homework."

Homework.

Merlin, that comment was my greatest mistake of the evening.

Considering how fragile I had been before, I don't know what possessed me to let that word slip; because at once, my stomach tightened and my throat dried out and my ideologies went right back to battle. This time, they were in my gut because my intestines kicked them out.

Oh, how bad it hurt, to know that I had so much waiting for me when I went upstairs in such a short amount of time. I had to try pretty hard to force a semi-acceptable smile on my face, although I'm sure it probably looked creepier than I intended.

"That's good," said James. "We do need some down-time."

"We do."

At this point, I became probably the worst raconteur in the entire universe. Like, worse than the doorknobs and the sea pigs and the conversationally-challenged. It was fairly pathetic, because normally my dialogue skills are decent enough – but once my brain reverted to homework, there was no stopping my nervous tension.

Too bad the person I was with at the time happened to be James bloody Potter.

He looked at me kind of oddly, since I was acting like I was about to retch or something, but decided to uneasily bumble along as we turned a corner.

"Yeah," he said. "Well, I spent most of my summer with my mum's side of the family, out in the country. Sirius came along and we rode our brooms most of the day. We got quite tan because of it – and Sirius got a wicked sunburn."

I chuckled. I hope it sounded right, because I started scratching an itch on my arm and didn't pay much attention. "Wow. Sounds like you guys had fun."

"We did," said James, grinning reminiscently. "My aunt Abby loves a good game of one-on-one rugby, too, so we spent a lot of time playing her and trying to beat her. We never did, not even when we were two on one."

"Really?"

Wow. Even then, I realized how absolutely awful I was being. If I had been in a conversation class and was graded on tonight, I would've failed. Awfully. Probably gotten the first grade lower than a T, knowing me.

"Yeah – she may be pushing her thirties, but she's still got it," said James proudly. "When you live out in the country, there's nothing much you _can_ do except get your rugby on."

"Mmm."

Then, because I felt bad – "I am rubbish at rugby. It's a very difficult game, isn't it?"

"It sort of is, but that's only because it's a little rough. Otherwise, it's really fun," said James. "Maybe I'll teach you some time."

"Maybe." I made sure to sound noncommittal. "I didn't do much sport-wise while I was off. Unless shopping with Alice can be considered a sport – which it jolly well ought to be."

James laughed. "How bad could it be?"

"You haven't tried it," I said. "Alice can be really intense when she wants to be. This summer, she was on the look-out for these boots she saw last year while shopping with me. She couldn't get them because she didn't have the money at the time, and then afterwards, they weren't available anymore. But she is still determined to have them. I don't even know how many boot shops I went to with her trying to find those damn boots."

I stuttered all this kind of fast. I kept rubbing my stomach and the itch on my arm got worse. I probably looked like a mad-woman; but James ignored that, if he noticed at all, and laughed appreciatively.

"That's interesting," he said. "So is shopping for boots all you did, or did you do anything else worth sharing?"

"I celebrated my sister's birthday and Livvy redid her underwear stock," I said.

"Livvy…?" James took a second to work this one out. I scratched my arm for that itch again. Then it came to him.

"Oh, you mean Olivia, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, who else?"

"Sorry," he said. "She's always been Olivia for me. Never Livvy."

"Not for me," I said lamely. "Nope…"

We paused awkwardly there for a moment, but it seemed to me that James was determined to carry on the conversation somehow or another, regardless of how poorly I cooperated. That was fine with me. Even if I wasn't freaking out about my homework, I would still not have known what to say for him and his leadership in the matter made it easier for me to figure out how to guide the conversation.

From there, James told me about why Sirius has recently started calling Remus "Pookie" (it's a long, strange, twisted story I won't get into) and how Peter accidentally half-severed off his right toe while making marshmallows in Sirius's fireplaces (another long, strange, twisted story I won't get into) and I gratefully followed along.

It wasn't hard – all I had to do was gasp and giggle in the right places – and the conversation tottered along, even with my inattention hindering its progress. James was very self-assured and undoubtedly had some interesting stories to tell about his holidays (none of mine, even the interesting ones, came anywhere close) and he was more than happy to share them with me, babbling on at ease about something or another.

I was fine. I'd like to think I got better as we progressed, talking more and taking control of my rebellious organs. He made it easier for me to forget about my dreaded homework. I faltered a little – of course – but it wasn't anything overt or ridiculous or anything. I didn't fall on my face or accidentally turn his hair blue, which I did do once in fourth year. I was fine. I was even kind of relaxed, natural.

Or, rather, I _was_…until the end of the patrol.

By ten thirty, we were both tired and more than ready to go to bed. Fine. That's natural. We had talked (i.e. James had talked) ourselves through this and our first long patrol was done. We checked in with the other prefects by McGonagall's office again, making sure there were no problems, and then we dispersed to our dormitories for some rest – or, in my case, homework.

My stomach knot tightened again as I walked down the corridor, slowly closing the space between myself and the things I don't want to do, and I could feel the happiness flowing out of me like helium from a dying balloon. I _really _didn't want to work.

James walked with me since our portraits are down the hall from each other. He whistled as he went, but I didn't say anything. I was exhausted and definitely not in a sociable mood. I tend to get manic during the school year, in case that wasn't obvious enough. The itch in my arm hadn't gone away. I kept scratching at it until my skin turned red and I had to stop.

When we arrived at my portrait (which comes up first) I yawned and stared unhappily at the bowl of cherries that marked my entrance. I gave it my password so that it could open up and then I turned to James, who was loitering by my portrait and watching me.

"Well…good night, James," I said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

James continued to watch me, acting like I hadn't said anything at all. There was something murky and complicated about the way he gazed at me and didn't say anything, after the abundant chatter he had put through my ears tonight.

It disconcerted me, to say the least, and I was about to flee through the open portrait, when suddenly—

"Lily, do you want this to work?" he inquired.

I stopped dead and blinked a couple of times. I had heard him perfectly well – his tone was clear and candid and confident and utterly unmistakable – but I still said, "Excuse me?"

"I asked, do you want this to work?" he repeated, his voice the same, as though he understood why I needed to hear him say this again.

"Do I want…what to work?" I was almost afraid of the answer he might give.

"Us," he said simply.

I stared. This slightly annoyed him.

"C'mon, Lily, you're a smart girl, I know you know what I'm talking about," he said. "I'm not a complete moron. I saw what you were doing all evening. You were nervous. You were freaking out. You could barely keep your end of our conversation up. I think it was because of me."

I remember thinking, _Well, not __entirely__…_

"I…I…" I was lost for words. I knew what I wanted to convey – that it wasn't all him, it was my regular life too – but I couldn't say it.

"It's okay," he said. "I get it. I know you and I have this weird thing between us, this history, but I thought we were over it. Sixth year went all right, didn't it? I want this year to be all right too. I want us to get along."

"We _are _getting along," I mumbled babyishly.

"Yeah…but not well," he said. "So can we act normal around each other and put past events behind us? Stop acting like this is a punishment and do what we're supposed to do?"

"So you want to be friends?" I found myself asking him.

He considered. "Yes," he said. "I guess I do."

Friends. Wow. In that context, it felt like the strangest idea ever conceived by man. James and I being friends. Not acquaintances, not fellow Heads, but friends. Us. _Friends_.

I suppose I looked rather freaked by this, because James quickly added, "If that's a problem, I mean, we can figure something else out…"

"No, no, it's okay," I said. "We can be friends. I want to be friends."

"Look, I'm going to be very honest with you for a sec," James said, eyes flashing in a way I have never really seen before. "I know I'm not usually the responsible one here. I know you don't enjoy being around me and that it's awkward being friends with someone like me. I never wanted to be the Head Boy, but I'm here now, and I figure, it's easier if we get this out of our way from the start so there aren't any issues down the road."

"You're right," I said. But I was too dumbfounded to say anything else.

"This isn't an ideal arrangement," he continued. "But I desperately want to make this work out for the better."

"Me too," I said, fighting to regain a proper voice in this new development. "I get what you mean. I also want it to work and I…tonight hasn't been a good night."

"It's all right," he said. "I wasn't sure how it was going to go and actually, it went better than I thought it would."

"Your standards must've been low," I remarked.

"Maybe," he said, "but I am willing to start our entire relationship over and get a fresh start. I mean…I'm not the same guy you've always known. Things are different now. After these next few months, we're going to graduate from here and you're never going to see me again. I want to go knowing that you and I are okay; that, if nothing else, we can leave here as friends."

I felt a slight smile on my lips in response to the earnestness of his face, that face I've known so well for so long. "I can shake on that," I said.

"To being friends," said James, putting his hand out.

"To being friends," I reiterated, putting my hand in his and shaking it firmly.

James's smile was bigger than mine. "All right," he said. "Thanks, Lily. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night," I said, waving to him.

He waved back and walked back down the corridor, his steps cautiously measured. It was as though he didn't want me to get an idea of his emotions by the way he moved – even though he was giving away as much right now.

I then turned on my heel and climbed into my dormitory, feeling as though an enormous gong had been hit in my ears, the reverberations tolling through my body like it was nobody's business.

At once, I got this diary out and began to write about the experience; but even as I narrated how it happened, the strangest feelings come back to my stomach.

They're heavier than my fear of working, but at the same time, they are similar. He made me nervous. He did. So much had gone wrong, or weird, or totally off-track between us – it was impossible _not _to feel ill-at-ease when he approached me and said something to me and expected me to respond.

And besides that, he _was _different now. He _wasn't _the guy I've always known. I mean, he kind of is, of course, but there's a lot about him that has changed significantly.

He's older. He's far more intellectually mature than he was when I last had a real conversation with him. He's not the guy that tortured my childhood best friend by the lake in fifth year. He's…calmer. Sweeter. He really does want to make us work.

There is too much in me to coherently pen down on these mere pages. That's the truth of the matter. I'm searching for the words in my head, trying to find a way to explain how this person who is not the person I thought he was is affecting me, but it's next to impossible.

It's a feeling I know, but a feeling I don't; like those two ideas mated and had a child, the foreign thing brooding inside of me that tugs me in a million directions. It's intimate, but oddly cavernous, like only I know it, but it renders me hollow, confused. It befuddles me, takes away my sense of control, and I don't know what to make of my situation.

The frenzy I felt upon coming back in here and writing about this latest development has come back to haunt me. I don't think I can write anymore. I'm sure this will all look better in the morning – at least, that's what Alice always says – and I'm sure this Let's Be Friends policy will work out spectacularly, but for now, I need to go wallow in my misery.

Plus, I still have that homework to do; and I'm pushing eleven o'clock.

I wish myself luck with the rest of my life.

--

A/N: The review button is still right down there. Always has been, always (hopefully) will be.


	8. I Continue to Float Along

A/N: Eurgh. Summer is supposed to be a time of doing nothing and writing all the time. Unfortunately, this year, that has not been the case. Hence…I am not always going to be on top of my updating. This time, my excuse was that I was in LA for a week. Hopefully my real life should not stop you from reading/reviewing anyway, haha.

Enjoy!  
Xx

--

September 30

**Morning Check:**

Yeah, yeah, I'm getting up, but that's only because I wake up at five in the morning with a jolt because I didn't do some stupid assignment I was putting off. I guess guilt is nature's most effective alarm clock. Definitely something to think about.

**9:45 AM  
**_Status_: Slacking off in Runes

I was on a roll last night and actually finished reading up on the translations we're doing today. So, instead of having to feverishly take notes and stress, I get to slack off and write in here.

To be honest, I've been missing my diary. It's been several days since I've written and that doesn't feel right.

Looking carefully at the situation, it seems that I'm bonding with an inanimate book. Maybe I would've found that strange as a twelve-year-old, but twelve-year-old me didn't have the mad-cap schedule I'm trying to keep up with right now, so I think strange is just par for the course this year.

Take the days I haven't written as a case in point. I've gotten to the point where I have to dedicate my lunch period to studying as though I have exams the next day. When I'm showering, I am so busy running through my head-lists that I forget if I already washed my hair. Last night, I fell asleep at my desk with my open Potions textbook as my pillow – something Alice smacked me soundly for this morning when she came in to wake me up.

I'm tired. I'm a bit of a wreck. I'm running out of shampoo. I don't know how I'm supposed to survive November, let alone the rest of the year. It has to get easier, it just has to; and yet, I truthfully don't know if it will. That scares the living hell out of me.

On a happier note, good things continue to happen here at Hogwarts. The Let's Be Friends policy that James and I created has been working as well as one could hope, with us being considerably less awkward than usual while we wander about the empty hallways, wishing we were sleeping or getting something done (but mostly sleeping).

Mostly, our topics involve school and work, because that's really all we do these days, but I think that's good enough. Sometimes I'll repeat a joke Mary told me the other day in Charms. Sometimes he'll tell me the _real _reason why Sirius's hair was pink yesterday, or why Remus looked like he swallowed a lemon in Transfiguration. Pretty weird stuff, generally.

Nowadays, though, his attention is focused on Quidditch. He'll tell me all about how he's doing the training, how his team is doing, what their prospects could be at this early point. There's a match tomorrow – the first of the year, between Ravenclaw and Slytherin – and he's been getting pretty excited about it.

"It's good we're not playing first this year," he had said to me last night. "That way, I can get a look at the competition and train the team accordingly. We _have _to win the cup this year."

And, because of this, I know more about Quidditch tactics than I would have ever cared to know in my lifetime. It's much more complicated than I thought it was. No wonder Livvy is so exhausted after practice these days – I'm exhausted just hearing about what they're supposed to do in theory.

I suppose this is a good thing. This peace, this chill conversation. I get along with James as well as I get along with the other prefects, with all my various acquaintances in the castle. He really has changed. He's a good sort of guy – polite but funny, sweet without overdoing it, rebellious enough to interest me but not enough to irritate me.

His little games have become tamer now than they have been in the past – probably part of his campaign to be a good Head Boy – and that's great. That's grand. That's even wonderful. In the span of a year, James Potter has become certifiably and inexplicably perfect.

But I just…it doesn't feel right to me.

Look, I am well aware that people don't stay the same. That they don't stay put in a tiny box or anything. But at the same time, this is…bizarre. After everything that has gone on between us, after all the comments and pranks and touching and driving me insane, it doesn't sit right with me that he's become this lovely gentleman while I remain the same messy, scatter-brained girl I've always been.

He was a certain way. Therefore, when I was around him, I was a certain way too. Now, though, he's gone and turned a one-eighty on me and I'm not sure where I stand in his life.

And now, as the bell prepares to ring and the students prepare to bolt out of here, I figure I'll just play it by ear and muse upon it later. Merlin knows I don't have the time to puzzle over it right now.

**6:30 PM  
**_Status_: Relaxed (for once)

Currently, I'm in the Gryffindor common room, sitting by the window surrounded by my various piles of parchment and textbooks, and it's raining outside.

I've always loved rain. Always. From the time I was small and loved going out to the garden to play with my sister, Petunia, she got annoyed when the water came down and I got excited. She would run in, getting upset because her dress was getting wet, but I'd lie in the grass and get muddy and taste the drops as they fell on my tongue. My mum wasn't too thrilled about that, but I found it magical that the wispy white things in the sky were capable of throwing so much water at us when they felt like it.

I haven't changed much. I still feel that way…which is the reason why I'm avoiding my homework and watching the rain instead.

I am fully well aware that this is not the most productive thing I could be doing. If Alice were here (which she isn't, because she's in the library) she would smack me and tell me to do my homework while simultaneously painting her nails. If Livvy were here (which she isn't either, because she has Quidditch practice, Merlin help her) she would smack me and _make _me do my homework.

But as they are both not here, I am happily slacking off and watching the environment around me. It's not like I do this often or anything…it's just a bit of an indulgence, a once-in-a-while occurrence too gorgeous to pass up.

The sky is terribly gray. October doesn't always yield a lot of rain, but on this particular day, it's difficult to tell the date or the time or anything at all, since it's so dark. The rain is quite loud – I can hear it over all the chatter of the common room, the games of Exploding Snap and shouts of exasperation over something or another. I'm kind of wondering how Livvy and the Quidditch team are faring outside – it's miserable sport-playing weather.

Oh, shit. _Shit_. It's about six thirty, isn't it? _Shit_. Livvy's done with practice now – and judging by the muddy and exceedingly grumpy creature standing in front of the portrait hole, I think it didn't go so well.

I'm going to go see what's going on. Hopefully, it will distract her from the fact I have done squat since five o'clock when she left for practice.

**8:45 PM**  
_Status_: …

As it turns out, Livvy's practice was awful. She was wet through and shivering. She was afraid of catching a cold. She was also furious.

"That bloody James Potter!" she stormed upon plopping her damp, muddy arse on the chair beside me. "Merlin, I could just about kill him!"

"Right, well, as long as you don't feel too strongly about it," I said. "What's going on?"

"_Conditioning_!" Livvy all but spat this word at me, her voice full of venom I've rarely heard in her before.

"Conditioning?"

"Yes, _conditioning_!" Livvy actually spat on the carpet. I was fairly repulsed by this.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Oh, I'll _tell _you," Livvy thundered. "Conditioning is James _bloody _Potter making us sprint around the _enormous _pitch _twelve times _in the _pouring _rain. Conditioning is doing complicated _maneuvers _in the _pouring _rain. Conditioning is doing _push-ups _and _curl-ups _and all manner of _revolting _exercises in the _pouring _rain. Why? Because we need to _bloody train in all weathers_ so that we are _a better team _and _win the bloody Cup_. Well, we can't exactly win if we're _dead_, can we?"

I blinked. "I'm…sorry, Livvy," I said.

"Yeah? Me too," said Livvy bitterly, glaring at the carpet and breathing heavily.

We fell silent. Poor Liv – she doesn't usually mind exercising and conditioning, but if she's this distraught over it, it must have been brutal. I know through various chats during patrolling that James wanted to push the team – really push them so they would buck up and do what he wanted – but at the same time, _yikes_. This is one of those times where I'm glad I'm not a Quidditch player, because I absolutely hate doing stuff like that.

For several seconds, I toyed with the idea of sticking up for James, in that quiet we were having, because I felt oddly defensive of him and his single-minded need to get the Cup. But then those several seconds passed, I said nothing, and Livvy went upstairs to change into clean clothes. I stayed here and tried to make a little more progress on my homework, which failed miserably.

Now I have a patrol to take care of at nine, with James. I wonder if he'll be exhausted and cranky, like Livvy is; but really, I doubt it. James loves Quidditch. It would take a lot to irritate him when it comes his precious Quidditch. Maybe I'll ask him about it.

Eurgh, shit. I think I hear Livvy coming down the stairs and asking me if I did my homework. I didn't. I'd better run to my patrol before I'm late and Livvy can pin me down to question me.

'Night.

--

A/N: The next chapter shall amuse you. It will definitely amuse me too. Meanwhile, review. You know you want to…


	9. I Have an Unfortunate Accident

October 1

**8:00 PM  
**_Status_: Confused

Okay, wow.

I am…befuddled, but not really. Like, I know where I am and what my life is and when I was born, but I'm still bemused, in a dream-like state where everything is a little fuzzy. Very strange.

Plus, I'm in pain. Not a lot of it – just enough to have a mildly throbbing headache. A bloody irritating one, though.

There is a reason for this. Allow me to explain to both myself and this diary, because we're both slightly out of it at present and it would do me well to go over the events one more time, keep them straight.

See, today was the day of the big Quidditch match. Ravenclaw and Slytherin, very exciting. I went with Alice and Livvy to watch. We might have stayed back to do our homework on such a day – because we really did have a lot of it – but Livvy has been ordered by James to figure out some of the tactics being used and Alice and I are just lousy procrastinators. It all worked. We bundled up in jackets and sat up in the stands, cheering on Ravenclaw because no Gryffindor ever cheers for Slytherin as a rule.

The Ravenclaws were pretty good. I could tell as much without Livvy whispering it feverishly in my ear. They were well-organized and knew what they were doing. Their Beaters were particularly good – Terrence Andrews and Jonathon Sanders. Jonathon is a prefect as well. I was pretty impressed; they whacked the hell out of those Bludgers, sending them anywhere a green speck lingered a second too long. More than once, they came close to unseating a Slytherin someone and we three girls stood up and cheered. Very fun.

However, this wasn't to say that the Slytherins took this lying down. They didn't. They played back and the Beaters knew instantly that they had to play it up a little. Once they warmed up a little to the other's tactics, the game evened out and stayed break-neck close for a while, sixty-seventy to Ravenclaw. The Seekers were constantly combing the pitch for the Snitch (ha, that rhymed!) and the audience (meaning us) was pretty tense.

The score continued to climb, slowly and painfully. The Beaters were fighting for control of the Bludgers. The Chasers were fighting for control of the Quaffle. The Seekers were tailing each other in the hope that one of them would find the tiny fluttering thing first and make their lives easy. Not happening.

Either way, though, I remember is the score being at one-ten for both and one of the Ravenclaws was hitting the Bludger. It went astray, though, and started a rogue course close to the stands. They usually don't do that, the Bludgers, but in this case, it was hit wrong and one broke the rules and it was coming straight at me and the girls.

The last things I remember are an enormous cannonball-like thing shooting like a rocket, a collective intake of breath from the people around me, and my arms coming up to shield my face.

Then, it all goes dark for me.

I woke what had to be several hours later in a bed in the Hospital Wing. The sky was getting darker and I felt a little dizzy. I also had my present headache. I tried to sit up, but I got too dizzy, so I just stayed put. I turned my head to see Livvy and Alice sitting across the room with their books. I attempted to find my voice from the parched, thick depths of my throat, but I couldn't, so I coughed instead. This caught their attention.

"Lily!" Livvy instantly put her books down and got up. "Hey, Lils, are you all right?"

"Goodness, Lil, you gave us quite a scare!" Alice agreed, dropping her books as well. "Feeling any better?"

I coughed again. "Yeah. Slightly bewildered, and a little like I'm made of lead, but otherwise I'm okay."

"Oh good, you're awake," said Madam Pomfrey in her brisk, nurse's voice, arriving on the scene out of nowhere with her wand. "All right, Miss Evans?"

"Yes," I said with another cough.

She poked me on the head. "Does that hurt?"

"No," I said.

"Excellent," she said. "You can go now, if you'd like. I'm sure Miss Harris and Miss Prewitt can fill you in on the details."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," I said.

"You be careful, dear," she responded, bustling back past the curtain into her private world.

I took Alice's hand and got up out of bed, a little wobbly but generally fine. Alice took it upon herself to immediately hand her books off to Livvy (who was not excited by this) and put her arm around my waist and guide me out of the Hospital Wing. After a few steps, I shook her off, and my friends told me about what happened.

"It was _dreadful_," said Alice with her usual relish. "In the middle of the game, a Bludger came at you and hit you smack in the face!"

"Did it really?" Even though my memories would indicate as such, I still couldn't believe the truth as Alice told me.

But then again, maybe I should believe her. With my rubbish luck, of _course _I got hit with a Bludger. Me and Fate get along like James Potter and Severus Snape and I wasn't even wearing my lucky socks today. Poor, poor me.

"Yes, it did hit you," Livvy confirmed. "There was this sickening crack and the ball flew off, back to the game. You passed out and there was a hell of a lot of blood. Pomfrey told us that you cracked your skull. Hooch stopped the game and all the players were lingering around the stands and trying to get a look at you."

"You were a _sight_," added Alice. "Gina Wellowby fainted when she saw you. Apparently, she has some sort of phobia about blood."

"Anyway, McGonagall came over and shooed people away to take you to the Hospital Wing," Livvy continued. "She magicked a stretcher for you and you floated along with her to the castle. Then Hooch let the game continue."

"Did you watch?" I asked.

"Yes," said Livvy. "Me, Alice, and a few other Gryffindors who care deeply about your health sprinted in after McGonagall to see if you were okay. But Pomfrey made us leave and finish the game."

"It didn't go on too long," said Alice. "Slytherin won at the last second. Pity, I know."

"Yuck," I said, making a face.

"I know, but I think that's because Ravenclaw was a bit spooked by the whole accident with you," said Livvy intelligently. "It was one of their Beaters who hit you and his obvious trauma resonated in his teammates."

"Do you know which one?" I asked.

"His shirt said Sanders," said Alice. "Otherwise, I have no clue who he is. Blonde hair? Blue eyes?"

"Merlin, that's Jonathon," I said suddenly. "He's a prefect."

"Really?" said Alice with interest. "I knew he had to be younger than us. After the game, we came straight here; and about five minutes afterwards, he came crashing in, mud and filth and all, and wondering where you were."

"He was really worried, poor thing," said Livvy.

"Well, he should be – he hit her," Alice pointed out.

"Either way, he was distraught," Livvy insisted. "He asked if you were awake, if he could apologize, was everything okay?"

"We told him it was," said Alice. "You were asleep, though, after Pomfrey magically mended the bone. He was mighty disappointed."

"He'll probably find you and talk to you about it," said Livvy. "He came back two more times."

"James Potter also came in to ask about you," Alice inserts with a wicked grin.

"Did he?" I was touched.

"Yeah," said Livvy, remembering. "Yeah, yeah, he did!"

"What did he say?" I asked.

"Nothing big – just checking in," said Alice. "It was actually very sweet. He wanted to know if you'd woken up yet, if you were all right. We said we'd tell you he came by and he said okay."

"That was nice of him," I said, kind of pleased.

"Well, I mean, he was one of many that came by to give you their well wishes," Livvy said. "But yeah, it was quite nice of him. The rest of his gang came by too."

I blushed. "Wow."

"You're a popular girl, Lil," said Livvy, grinning. "When you get knocked out by a Bludger, people care."

"Even Snape lingered by the door a few extra seconds," Alice said impressively.

"Did he?" My smile fell a bit. My stomach always turns to ice when I hear his name.

"Yeah," said Livvy. "He looked worried, but he didn't come in. He lingered until his friends asked him what the hell he was doing. They called you the…the M-word, and he left with them." Livvy made an uncharacteristically ugly face. "The slimeball."

"You're well rid of him, Lils," said Alice, giving my shoulder a pat, no doubt catching the expression on my face. "He's a right git and he's hanging out with the wrong sort of people."

"I suppose you're right," I said reluctantly.

"He's a jerk," Livvy announced. "Forget about it. We still have time for dinner if you want any, Lily. Alice and I grabbed sandwiches and ate in the room already."

"No, I'm still a bit ill," I said. "I'll go upstairs and get a move on with my homework."

"Good for you," said Livvy encouragingly. "Alice and I are off to the library to finish up that Potions thing. You want to come with us?"

"I'm going to do the History of Magic essay first because I'm almost done," I said. "Then I have to work out that Refilling Charm for Flitwick. I'll stay in the dorm. See you guys tonight, then."

"That's fine," said Alice. "Good luck, Lils."

She gave me a hug, as did Livvy, and we parted ways, the girls going to the library and me going upstairs. Although I might still do that essay and that charm right now, the real reason I wanted to come up here was to get some time alone. My head is still aching, after all, and if I don't want to do my homework, I don't want Livvy shooting me dirty looks that invoke severe guilt.

I'm injured, aren't I? I think I deserve a bit of a break. Cracking my skull open should be ample excuse to take an easy night, sleep a little. I'll wake up early tomorrow and do a little work. It'll be fine.

Or…hmm. Maybe I should do it now. I mean, it can't kill me, can it? I've already written about my whole ordeal, so I am obviously capable of elementary coherency and legible penmanship. And I remember how to spell coherency, which must be a good thing. I should stop being a baby and get down to it, do my work, because the real world is fast approaching and I can't just nap when the going gets tough. I need a backbone.

Oh, dilemmas.

Pros of Doing My Homework

1. I will get it done, thus eliminating the shame of not doing it.  
2. I won't need to wake up early tomorrow, which I dread doing.  
3. Livvy will be proud of me.  
4. Alice will be proud of me.  
5. I won't be stressed for the whole day, particularly for my next patrol with James.  
6. I will be living up to my goals and my job as Head Girl.  
7. I can prove to the Hogwarts world that I am resilient and can in fact complete my homework despite having a recently cracked skull.

Cons of Doing My Homework

1. I haven't slept properly in _weeks_, or what feels like weeks anyway. I could use an early night, a good and well-deserved break.  
2. Early nights are conductive to bouts of brilliance in the morning anyway.  
3. Who knows what side-effects could come up from having a cracked skull? Maybe I ought to take a rest and nurse my poor skull back to health before I tax my brain.  
4. I just don't want to. Can't that bloody be enough?

Hmmm. Looking at the facts as they present to me, I think…I think I'll have a compromise. I'll finish the essay and then go to bed. I'll work on the charm in the morning. Charms are usually fairly easy for me to get right anyway. I'll be fine. Livvy and Alice will understand and one night won't kill me. I did most of my other work already anyway.

Eurgh. Screw it. I got hit in the head with a Bludger today. I am going to _bed_ and I will do it now before I eat myself alive with guilt.

'Night.

**4:30 AM**  
_Status_: Guilty

Okay, okay, my good side wins out. I have been tossing and turning for a full hour and I can't take it anymore. I'll do the bloody homework now, I will, I will.

Note to self: Ask Alice to privately kill me tomorrow.

--

A/N: Next chapter is some further plot development. I promise. The cushion for the beginning has officially ended! Huzzah!

Review button is right down there. Make friends with it. –poke-


	10. I Despair over Romance

A/N: This is the first chapter sixteen-year-old me has posted because as of today, I am sixteen! Exciting, huh? Now you know how old I am. Please feel free to use it as an excuse when I say something particularly silly in this story.

Enjoy.  
Xx

--

October 2

**9:45 AM**  
_Status_: In disbelief

Today, in Charms, we had to work in partners on a spell that made inanimate objects dance across our table. And, needless to say, it was a bit of a disaster in our room.

Alice paired up with Frank, who asked her to please spare him from William Gossamer, who had been eyeing him hopefully. Livvy paired up with Daniel Yetter from across the room, a mutual acquaintance of ours. James paired with Black, of course, and Pettigrew paired with Lissie Elmhurst, which left me with fewer prospects than I would have liked.

I ended up working with Remus, who has been my good friend ever since third year. This was a good thing – I adore Remus. He's an absolute sweetheart.

I gestured for him to come to my table and he shrugged, coming along since he had no one else he particularly wanted to be with. He smiled as he sat down, his lovely brown eyes bright as ever.

"Hey, Lily," he said. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, I'm ready," I said. "This shouldn't be too bad, should it?"

"No," he said. "We have to hold the wand like this, right?" He demonstrated a pretty good representation of the movement.

"Move it a little more to the right," I suggested. "And make your motions a bit more…brash, you know? You're doing it quite lightly."

Remus tried again. I told him it was good and he tried it on his quill. It moved feebly, as though attempting to rise, but it fell back down. Remus sighed.

"It's not really working," he said.

"I told you, be more assertive," I said, somewhat pleased that I could teach clever Remus something, for once. "Like…like this."

I waved my wand in a particularly grandiose movement; but I was a little too enthusiastic, because my wand accidentally hit Remus's bag and made a couple of sparks come out of it. Remus chuckled.

"Careful there, Lily," he said cheerfully.

I giggled, embarrassed. "Well, it's something like that, anyway."

"I think I get it," he said.

And it went on like this – polite, productive, a tad bit awkward but nothing too bad – for quite some time. I had an enjoyable period, because while I love Livvy and Alice to bits, they can get a little off-task (particularly Alice) and can irk me to no end.

Remus isn't like that, though. He does what he has to do and he's very amiable about it all. No jokes, no off-hand conversations – all pleasantries and work.

We were going along very, very well for, as I said, quite some time. However, halfway through the period, we were startled by a very loud _bang _from James and Black's corner.

Apparently, James and Black got bored with the dancing charm and decided to try out some other charms in our book; and one of them went a little off and caused an explosion, as well as an odor of rotten eggs. They were both laughing hysterically and Flitwick – irked as he was – assigned them detention. They took their punishment merrily and continued to chuckle.

I watched this in disbelief for a few seconds and turned back to Remus for his opinion. To my surprise (or maybe not) Remus was chuckling too – hard, at that.

"They are too funny sometimes," he said affectionately.

And then all I could do was stare at him. I mean, he was the good guy in their clan of trouble-makers! He was supposed to even them out, be the voice of reason. They've obviously corrupted him through the years; and I still find it difficult to believe that wonderful Remus finds smelly odors to be 'funny.'

Oh, the world I live in…

**2:30 PM**  
_Status_: Tired

As of a few minutes ago, Professor Slughorn has invited me to another one of his Slug Club dinners on the fifteenth. He said he would be delighted to have me, dear girl, absolutely honored.

Well, when he says it like that, how can I not accept?

So, despite the fact that I am exhausted and not in the mood for any parties whatsoever, I said all right, I can come. Slughorn beamed and walked off before I could change my mind and make something else up.

Ah, well. At least it'll make someone's day…

**11:35 PM**  
_Status_: Surprised

My goodness do I have things to write about at the moment! This morning I was bored (hence the earlier entries of today), but this afternoon, an enormously astonishing (to me, anyway) development occurred, one that has Livvy and Alice chattering away, analyzing what this could possibly mean.

See, Jonathon Sanders, the Ravenclaw prefect, asked me out.

It was actually kind of sweet, the way he did it. He caught me when I was coming out of Charms, walking outside and chatting with Marlene McKinnon.

"Can I have a word?" he inquired upon seeing me. "Alone?"

"Erm…" I looked awkwardly at Marlene. She instantly got it.

"That's fine," she said. "I'll catch you later, then, Lily."

"Bye, Marly," I said, waving. I then fell in stride with Jonathon, who was walking a bit fast, probably out of nerves. I waited politely for him to initiate the conversation, since it was he who sought me out.

"I'm so incredibly sorry about the Bludger incident, Lily," he said at once, not really into bullshitting around. "That was absolutely awful and I hope you'll forgive me for it."

"Of course, Jonathon, I'm all right," I said.

"You cracked your skull open in front of the whole school because of me," said Jonathon, his beseeching blue eyes downcast. "I almost killed the Head Girl."

"Believe it or not, I've done worse," I tried to comfort him.

"Yeah, but still," he said. "I feel bad. Really bad. I'm not usually in the habit of accidental murder."

"I understand that," I replied with a smile. "Don't worry about it. I won't hold it against you."

"Well…I was kinda thinking about it…" he said, "and I was wondering…would you allow me to take you out for lunch next Hogsmeade visit? To make it up to you?"

I felt my cheeks go instantly red. "Erm…no, it's quite all right…"

"No, I want to," insisted Jonathon. "Please say you'll say yes. I'll feel awful if you don't."

Merlin, that boy was good. He had me feeling utterly guilty and his blue, blue eyes didn't help. I didn't want to be rude, after this display, so I sighed, blushed harder, and said, "All right. I'll come with you."

"Excellent," said Jonathon with a broad smile. "I checked the date – it's the twentieth of October."

"Sounds good," I said. "But really, you don't have to do this."

"I want to," he assured me again. "Anyway, I've got to run to Charms now. I'll see you later, Lily!"

"Bye, Jonathon," I said.

Jonathon flashed me a brilliant smile and bounded off in a way that told me he had sacrificed a lot of time to talk to me. I had to go too and the moment I got to my next class – History – I immediately began to fill Livvy and Alice in on the details.

They were…amused, to put it lightly.

"Your fifteen-year-old almost-murderer asked you out on a date and you agreed?" Alice asked through her crippling laughter. "Honestly?"

"Well, I think it's sweet," Livvy said resolutely, giving Alice a look. "Good for you, Lily."

"I just didn't want to be rude," I said honestly. "He was so earnest about it. He really wanted to make it up to me."

"Or he fancies you and this is an ideal opportunity to get you alone," suggested Alice.

"You're being silly," I said. "I'm not that fanciable. He's simply being overly-nice. Nothing else."

"He likes you a _little_, maybe, but it's nothing big, I'm sure," Livvy said. "It'll be a cute date to tide you over, if nothing more. He seems like a good kid."

"He _is _a good kid," I said. "This was simply taking it a bit far."

"Try too far," said Alice, still snorting. "He has some nerve!"

"Alice, don't be so obnoxious," Livvy scolded her.

"Just drop it," I said, tired already of their bickering. "We don't like each other in any way other than as mutual authority figures. This is one tiny date, it doesn't even mean anything."

"True," said Alice with a shrug. "A free lunch is always good."

Livvy rolled her eyes, but we didn't really have any more to say on the subject for the rest of the class period. We had other things to talk about – like how hideously bored we were and how much we wished to be doing other, more useful things.

The rest of my evening passed fairly uneventfully, with me and the girls doing our homework, until I had to go for my patrol. I bid my friends good-bye and met with the prefects and James at our usual spot. We split up and James and I began to walk to the sixth floor together. As we did so, James began by expressing concern over my Quidditch accident yesterday.

"I'm so sorry about that," he said. "You were really out of it."

"I was," I said, "but I'm all right now. Madam Pomfrey was brilliant about fixing me up."

"I'm glad," he said genuinely.

"I…heard you dropped by to see me," I mentioned.

"I did," he said unabashedly. "I mean, I wanted to make sure you hadn't died or something."

"That would've been bad," I agreed.

"I know," he said. "I mean, who would patrol with me in the evenings? And groan when I leave early?"

I laughed, in spite of myself. "Well, I'm glad to know I'm appreciated."

"Of course you are," said James, giving me a poke in the arm.

I laughed again. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." He grinned. "I'm happy you're okay."

"Me too," I said. "You know, the Beater who hit me, Jonathon, felt so bad about the whole thing, he asked me out this afternoon."

James blanched. "No way! He asked you out?"

"Yes," I said, a little indignantly on his part. "What's wrong with that?"

"He's the prefect, right?" he asked. "From Ravenclaw?"

"Yeah," I said.

He began to laugh. "Merlin, yeah. Ha. And I assume you said yes to going out?"

"I don't see what's so funny about it," I said, cross. "I mean, he's a nice kid, he feels bad about a freak accident, and he wants to buy me lunch. Big deal."

James stared at me as though I'd informed him one and one made eight. "Lily, he could have given you flowers or something and finished with it. But he chose to go on a date with you. In guy language, that means he'll want to have lunch with you again. He likes you."

"Maybe with _you_, that's the case, but it doesn't have to be with everyone," I said. "There's such thing as a platonic relationship between guys and girls. Jonathon and I aren't any more than that."

"Doesn't mean he's happy about it," said James cryptically.

"He's barely ever spoken to me," I said. "The Head meeting was basically it."

"Guys watch from afar like girls do," James told me. "We're still human."

I sighed. "You're wrong. I'm not going to date Jonathon."

"Then don't lead the poor guy on by agreeing to lunch," said James. "Cancel the date if you're not serious."

"It's just lunch!" I said, exasperated. "Merlin's beard, you are just like Alice!"

He raised his hands up. "Whatever you say, Lily…"

"Yes," I said impatiently. "Whatever I say."

We left the topic at this point, moving on to other things, and our patrol went otherwise quite smoothly. James doesn't seem to like any quiet or slightly awkward moments at all, filling every second up with noise and chatter and laughter. He was determined to be friends with me and he made every effort to do so. I wasn't sure whether this was exciting or mildly disconcerting.

When I got back up to the common room, I was surprised to find Alice and Livvy still awake. They were studying for our Transfiguration quiz tomorrow. However, when they saw me, they looked up good-humoredly, happy to see me.

"Hey, Lils," said Livvy. "How was the patrol?"

"Fine," I said. I told them a little bit about our general, easy-breezy conversation and we discussed it, and it wasn't until much later in the conversation when I remembered the bit about Jonathon.

"Oh, by the way, Alice, you've got a supporter in James," I said.

"What about?" she asked, perplexed. Alice and James don't really know each other very well.

"About my date with Jonathon," I clarified. "He thinks it's ludicrous that I'm going out with him. He told me not to go if I don't mean anything by it, because _obviously _lunch means he wants to jump me, and that I'm silly to think we can be platonic friends. He even laughed like you did when I slipped in the fact that he asked me out."

Alice was completely floored by this new bit of information.

"Did he _really_?" she asked excitedly, leaning in, Transfiguration forgotten.

"Yes," I said, confused.

"Oh, Lily, this is _wonderful_!" Alice chirped. "James is still in love with you!"

"What are you going on about now, Alice?" Livvy, like me, sometimes lost her patience with Alice's fanciful theories on love.

"Don't you _see_?" she demanded, reminding me of that face James made at me today, the one that seemed to be a response to the proclamation that one and one make eight. "Lily, the boys is infatuated with you. He doesn't want to let you go."

She waited for Livvy and I to be impressed and understand her logic. To her great disappointment, we were not. Livvy stared at her dumbly, mouth half-open, and I sighed.

"Oh, all right, Alice, I'll bite," I said. "Why do you think James is infatuated with me and doesn't want to let me go?"

"_Because_," Alice said theatrically, "I mean, look at his initial reaction to the Jonathon news. You said he laughed. That means he was either amused you could consider going out with anyone else or he was trying to cover up vast feelings of disillusionment that you could consider going out with someone else."

"In case you've temporarily forgotten, Alice, we do not live in a soap opera," Livvy reminded her. "Guys don't do that sort of stuff."

"Of course they do! Why do you think affairs and relationship problems run so rampant in this school?" Alice dismissed. "Anyway, there's more, too."

"Oh good," I said, rolling my eyes. "Well, as long as you're not too involved with the whole thing…"

Ignoring me, Alice continued, "He was basically trying to get you to break up your date on the basis that it's mean to lead people on when you don't mean anything by it. It's a very subtle but provocative insight into his guyish mind – which is, as you know, a strange mixture of Neanderthal and complex homo sapien. He doesn't want you to be with anyone else, as mentioned before, because he's in love with you, and he doesn't want you wasting time making other guys miserable when he's bee the right guy all along. Plus, he knows how it is to think you have a chance with someone for a while, only to have them crush you in the end. He's trying to save emotions here and have you ride off into the sunset with minimal entanglements along the way."

Livvy and I exchanged glances and said in unison, "You're mad, Alice."

"That's the strangest analysis you have ever come up with in the history of our friendship, Alice, and I have a lot of candidates to choose from," I said.

"James isn't that kind of guy," added Livvy. "Remember, I've dated him. The guy is straightforward about pretty much everything. If he wants to be with Lily, he'll tell her as much. He doesn't send coded messages like that."

"Maybe Lily's different," suggested Alice. "Maybe he wants to be subtle at first to figure out how Lily feels before he makes his official move."

"Trust me, James is about as subtle as a blunt axe when it comes to his emotions," said Livvy with a wry smile. "When he's trying to give you hints, you'll know."

"There you go," I said, "coming from an ex-girlfriend herself. James doesn't fancy me anymore, Alice. He wants to be friends because we have both failed miserably at maintaining a decent relationship. That's it. He even told me so."

"You're wrong, Lily Evans," said Alice. "James is in love with you and he'll tell you that, too, when the time is right."

By this point, I was fed-up with Alice's relationship theories. Irritated, I stormed up to bed with a very stormy good-bye and now I'm up here, writing about it all. I know Livvy's got her head screwed on right when it comes to such matters, but I'm not sure about Alice. Alice is a bit of a mad-cap. We never know what's going on in her mind.

Eh. Well. There you go, I guess – it takes all kinds to make this world, and I suppose the Alice kind is no exception to the rule.

New question to ponder: Why does everyone think girls and guys can't be platonic friends? Particularly people who are friends with me?

Will get back to this when I have an answer. For now, am too tired to write much more.

'Night, then.

--

A/N: Review, review, review! They work as birthday presents for crazy writers who bear questions about their sanity everyday for spending so much time at their laptops…and this is a particularly big one for me…


	11. I Have Another Accident

A/N: Unfortunately, this chapter is based on real events that occurred in the life of yours truly on Memorial Day weekend. I had been looking for a place to use it, since a story idea was the only thing the event was good for, and now I've found a spot. So if you end up giggling just a little bit, know that you have made me happy, because it took me a while to find the humor in the situation.

An appearance by James is necessary and so it is here. I promise.

Thanks for all the birthday wishes, you guys – much appreciated – and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

--

October 11

**Morning Check:**

Fortunately enough, I did wake up at a reasonable hour today. That is, I did so after Livvy and Alice helpfully beat me with a hairbrush for twenty minutes. My bum was bright red, but I had time for breakfast, so I suppose it all evens out…

**4:00 PM**  
_Status_: Mortified/annoyed

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Eurgh, bloody hell. It's only ever _me_, isn't it? _I _am always the one plagued by the absolute worst luck in the universe. I think I was cursed by a mad bayou witch the day I was born, because I can think of no other explanation as to what causes all the weird things to happen to me.

Well, here we go with today's woes. These ones are particularly heinous, if I do say so myself, because not only did they cause public humiliation, they caused some severe mortification for one particular guy in my presence. But I'll get to that in a bit.

See, today, October eleventh, was one of those days that Hogwarts students wait around for every day in the fall. It's that rare, rare day where everything just seems to work – the sun comes out, the wind blows sweetly without being intrusive, the weekend comes around and gives us the opportunity to loll about on the grounds.

And when the first student made the announcement this morning that, indeed, this is The Day, every single person under eighteen in the building immediately sprinted to the front door. Me, Alice, and Livvy were among the droves, excitedly attempting to get a good spot by the Black Lake. And luckily, we were able to snag our favorite beech tree and lounge about in the shade, in utter bliss.

The only thing was, I had been feeling guilty all morning about the vast amount of homework I had thus far neglected to complete; so, in case my guilt finally pushed me to a point where I felt like being productive, I half-heartedly brought my bag outside with me. It sat beside me as I sat back against the trunk of the tree, appreciatively breathing in the fall-summer air.

"Merlin, it's gorgeous out, isn't it?" I said, shading my eyes from the relentless sun.

"Oh, Merlin, it is," said Livvy with a sigh. She was lying in the grass, her skinny little stomach going in a limited up-and-down motion with every breath, her long brown hair fanned out around her head. "I love this. It feels like summer."

"We need days like this every so often," said Alice with a yawn. "I could sleep out here."

Indeed, she probably could. She was sprawled on her stomach, her chin on her hands, her hair in a knot on her neck as she grinned up at me. Alice is famous for both sleeping and waking in two minutes flat no matter what day of the week it is – so long as she is on her stomach and she has a place to rest her cheek. I smiled at her.

"We needed this," I said. "The break. I mean, it's so busy these days in classes and everything – we have every right to laze around a bit. The weather is being very kind to us."

"We definitely ought to be nicer to the weather gods more often." Alice chuckled at her own lame remark and then chose to glare with distaste at my bag sitting next to me.

"Lils, did you have to bring that with you?" she asked irritably. "It's making me ill."

"I know, but I can never predict a mood of efficiency – and I could certainly use one some time today," I clarified for her.

"Good for you, Lily," Livvy said. "Although, if you'd done the work yesterday, when I asked you to, we might not have had this problem…"

"I had every reason to sleep all day – I wasn't able to sleep more than three hours for the past four days," I complained.

"It really was the perfect day for her," Alice pointed out. "Just eating and sleeping for twenty-four hours. Kind of like a hamster."

"Are you calling me a hamster?" I pulled a very offended expression on my face.

"Maybe I am," said Alice.

"I'm not a bloody hamster," I said with a pout.

"Of course you're not," said Livvy absently, patting my knee.

We continued in this vein for some time, talking about what was, essentially, mindless nonsense. However, several minutes later, Livvy announced she needed to go inside and wash her hands.

"It's filthy out here," she stated. "I need to go inside and wash my hands."

"Want me to give you a water spell?" I asked.

"No, I want a proper wash in a sink," Livvy said resolutely.

"You're so weird, Liv," Alice complained. She had been half-asleep and was suddenly woken when Livvy, whose foot had been resting on the small of her back, prepared to rise. "Why the bloody hell do you need to wash your hands right now? You can do it when we go back in."

"I'll do it again when we go back in, but I feel dirty right now," whined Livvy.

Livvy has some supremely annoying OCD habits we are forced to let her indulge. For example, she is a health snob and refuses to eat greasy foods, dabbing everything she gets from the Great Hall with a napkin and reciting random health facts that nobody cares about. She also has her homework done the night she gets it no matter how much it is or how tired she is – and it's usually done fairly well. She also has to wash her hands twelve times everyday, literally; she counts and everything. And every time she washes her hands, she has to do it three times.

Remembering this, I smiled at my friend and said, "Go on, we'll see you in a bit."

"Cheers, Lil." Winking, Livvy bounced up and ambled towards the castle, stumbling a little as she yawned and aimed to find the nearest bathroom. This left Alice and I by the beech tree, Alice now wide awake. She sat up next to me and my bag by the tree. My bag was on my right, facing the lake, and Alice was on my left.

"Hi, Lils," said Alice.

"Hello to you too, Alice," I said. Then I paused thoughtfully and announced, "You know, I think you need a proper nickname."

"What do you mean?" asked Alice.

"Like, you call me Lils and Lil and Flower and all sorts of other strange nicknames," I said, "and Livvy is Livvy. But I don't have anything for you. You're just Alice."

"That's true – I am so fabulous, the original name stands up to anything else that could come out of your imagination." Alice's eyes twinkled at this thought.

"Well, still, I think you need a nickname," I decided. "Maybe…Ally?"

Alice wrinkled her nose. "No."

"Erm…Issie?"

"Huh?"

"From A_lice_," I clarified.

"I sincerely hope you're joking."

I pout. "Erm…erm…Lissie?"

"People will confuse me with Lissie Elmhurst," said Alice, "and that's embarrassing. She hates me."

"Well, I mean, she did once overhear you calling her a miserable prude in fourth year," I reminded her fairly.

"Yeah, so Lissie is out of the question," said Alice.

"What about Lee? Just plain Lee?" I asked.

"I'm not a guy," she growled at me.

"Fine." I pondered the matter further. "What about…let's try adjectives or rhyming words or something. You just really, really need a nickname!"

"This is never going to work," Alice said in a very annoying sing-song voice.

"Alice Bo-balice?"

Alice gave me a Look.

"Fo-calice?"

Her eyes narrowed.

"Tortoise? Cypress? Venus?" I brightened with mischief. "Syphilis?"

At this, Alice lunged at me, making me shriek with delight and fear. I scrambled to save myself from her, but in my haste, my arm knocked against my bag; and when Alice jumped on top of me, I flailed so hard that my bag – my school bag, with everything of consequence to me class-wise – became briefly airborne.

And its short flight took it straight into the Black Lake.

When I heard that ominous little splash, I instantly froze and so did Alice. I pushed her off of me and stared as my bag, _my bag_, began to sink into the lake like the Titanic.

"MY BAG!" I hollered. I just couldn't believe it! Bags don't fall into lakes like that, damnit! Why was my fucking bag in the lake?!

"FUCK, ALICE, _DO _SOMETHING!" I scrambled to my feet, panic overtaking me and getting me into a pretty little frenzy. "WHERE IS YOUR WAND?!"

"Bloody hell, I don't think I brought it," Alice said, groping her various pockets in a search for it, her expression helpless. "It's up in my dormitory!"

"Who the fuck leaves their wand up in the dormitory?!" I demanded frantically, rage a new emotion to add to my list.

"I dunno, where's yours?" Alice asked, stung.

"Mine was _in the bag_!" I shouted at her.

"Merlin's beard, Lily, calm down, don't be quite so hysterical," said Alice, although she herself was getting worried. "Livvy should be coming soon…"

"I passed hysterical five seconds ago!" I hollered. "Alice, _my bag is at the bottom of the lake_ and we don't have wands! I can't bloody swim! What the fuck am I supposed to do?!"

The words had barely left my lips when I heard none other than James Potter's voice behind me, asking innocently, "What's going on?"

I whirled around and when I saw him, I didn't see a Head Boy with whom I shared a painful history. I just saw an able-bodied young man capable of getting my wand for me. At once, I jumped at him and said, "Thank Merlin you're here, James. My schoolbag…the lake…Alice…"

"Your bag is in the lake?" Mercifully, he understood the weight of this at once.

"Yes," I said, getting a bit teary-eyed now as I pointed to the spot. "I need help…it went down there…"

"Don't worry about anything, leave it to me."

With this determined statement, James's jaw locked in seriously and he thrust his robes into my hands, kicked his shoes off by Alice's feet. And, before either of us could open our mouths to say another word, James Potter – to the amazement of every head beginning to turn in our direction – dived right into the middle of the Black Lake where I had pointed.

The students are all well aware that the Black Lake is very, very deep. There are all sorts of creatures living down there – the Giant Squid, for one, and I've heard rumors about merpeople. Even the ghosts (who are already dead) don't go if they can help it. And yet, a wandless James is going in to rescue my bag.

Whimpering, I stayed next to Alice, who kept trying to comfort me to little avail. A bunch of people asked me what was going on and I couldn't muster the energy to tell them. I mean, my bag was in the lake. How embarrassing did that sound? It made me out to be a complete bimbo, incapable of keeping her belongings on her person on this nice, bright day.

Only me, I tell you. It's only ever me. And pretty much the entire time I was standing with Alice, frozen as I worried now for James's safety as well as the safety of my bag (which had my homework and textbooks in it) I could barely believe it was even happening. It's so…elementary. Impossible. Bags don't belong at lakes. I could've told you that at five. Now, at seventeen, it actually happens to me.

Bloody buggering hell.

Well, anyway, James did manage to come out of the lake about a minute later, holding my bag and dripping in muck. He dragged himself like a hero coming from the Underworld and a whole bunch of people (including me) came to help him to the bank, congratulating him and in my case thanking him endlessly.

"Thank you _so _much," I told him feverishly, over and over. "You saved my bag."

"No problem," said James, coughing mud into the grass, his glasses so filthy he could barely see through them.

"You know, Potter, you could've used a wand for the job," pointed out Marlene McKinnon, stepping up on the scene with her ever-cool head. "You could've used a Summoning Charm instead."

She pulled her own wand out of her pocket and wordlessly dried James up. He went pink at her statement, but he held his ground.

"I wanted to personally make sure Lily's bag was safe," he said. "All her books are in there. Summoning Charms are real buggers to work in an emergency situation, you know…"

"Yeah, okay," said Marly in a way that meant she didn't believe him. Then she turned her attention to me. "Here, Lils – do you want me to clean up your bag for you?"

"No, I've got it," I said. "My wand is in here."

I dug my hand into my slimy, disgusting bag and retrieved my wand. I returned James his robes and used my shirt to wipe the muck off of it. Marly, Alice, and James wrinkled their noses at this, but I ignored them and dried my bag and shirt.

Marly left after this and I was left with James and Alice. "Thank you so much, James," I said sincerely. "You didn't have to do that."

"It's okay," he said modestly, slipping into his shoes. "I suppose I just like playing the hero."

"It was quite heroic," agreed Alice. "Diving into the lake to get fair lady's bag…very nice."

"Are all your papers intact?" James asked with the utmost concern, not hearing Alice. "Your books?"

"Yep, they're all fine," I said, showing him. "Good as new. I was more worried about the essays."

"I'm glad," said James, giving me a brilliant smile.

"By the way, where is your wand?" I asked.

He patted down his pockets and found it in his left one. Blushing, he pulled it out and showed it to me. "Here," he said.

I laughed. "Well done."

"Now I feel quite silly," he admitted.

"Your gesture was still thoroughly appreciated," I assured him.

"You know, Lily," said Alice, naughtiness in her eyes, "James saved your bag. You owe him now. Why don't you take him out to lunch and make it up to him, eh?"

It takes me a second, but I realize what she is alluding to here and I groan. James, however, goes into peals of laughter.

"Yes, Lily, now you do indeed owe me," said James, eyes twinkling. "I'll need a butterbeer or something when we next go to Hogsmeade."

I scowled, but gave in and sighed. "Oh all right then," I said. "One butterbeer – for being such a chivalrous gentleman and saving my bag."

"Deal." He grinned widely and we shook on it, Alice thoroughly delighted by her own cleverness.

It was around this point when Livvy arrived at the scene, hands freshly washed, treated to the sight of my bag at my feet like a priceless treasure, Alice mooning about like a Cupid, James and I shaking hands and looking vaguely disheveled. She cocked her head to the side and beheld us in confusion.

"What the hell is going on here?" she inquired.

"C'mon, it's about time we head in," said Alice, tugging at my sleeve and dragging me along. "We ought to fill Livvy in."

"See you later, James," I said, giving him a quick smile as I allowed myself to be dragged off. "Thanks again!"

"What did he do?" Livvy wondered aloud with great interest.

Alice, being Alice, was more than happy to tell Livvy with excruciating detail what exactly James did to deserve my thanks. She exaggerated several of the high points in her usual way, so I had to correct her, but she waved me off and continued with what she was saying.

It turns out that Livvy, while insisting still that James was not in love with me, was still utterly delighted by the turn of events.

"Lily, that's so adorable!" she squealed at me. "James dived in to save your bag when he could've used his wand and made his life easier! That's so sweet!"

"I know, right?" Alice said, beaming now that she had an ally.

And so it continued for the whole walk up to Gryffindor Tower; and by the end of it, I was so tired of those two that I banished them from the dormitory so I could write up here in peace. Why my friends are such buffoons sometimes is completely beyond me – I am still burning with embarrassment from the whole ordeal, with my bag in the lake and my dignity in the toilet.

Only me, as I said before. It's always only ever me. Me, me, me. Sometimes, I really don't want to be me. Particularly when incidents like today occur; because now, I am so mortified of the lake, I don't want to go outside again, and I know fully well a day like today only comes around once every few years and I have only homework to look forward to now.

Eurgh. Where are my lucky socks when I need them?

Note to self: Take swimming lessons with Alice some time so that we are well-equipped next time an emergency rises and James Potter isn't there to bail out our (i.e. my) sorry arses.

--

A/N: Review button is right down there, folks.


	12. I Attend a Slug Club Party

A/N: This chapter is fun. And these acquaintances are most likely going to show up again, so you might want to keep track of them. I think you'll enjoy this.

And review. I'm kind of an unashamed review-whore who likes to know what people are thinking.

--

October 15

**10:00 PM  
**_Status_: Relieved

Well, I've managed to sneak away from Slughorn's office now. Finally. You can't imagine how awful it was in there – his parties can be extreme buggers sometimes.

See, today was the day of the previous, aforementioned party Professor Slughorn invited me to. October fifteenth. I've been so deep underground in the library that I actually forgot about it – until I went to Potions and Slughorn gave me a little wink, saying he would see me tonight.

I was really confused…until Alice told me she wanted a sandwich and I remembered I had the damn party tonight.

Eurgh. Fuck.

There was plenty to do to get myself ready for the miserable ordeal. I mean, I had patrol tonight, so after class, I caught James in the corridor and took five minutes to guilt-trip him into taking over for me, since I cut him so much slack with the whole Quidditch thing.

I then convinced myself that making Slughorn's day was worth not doing McGonagall's complicated Animagi essay until tomorrow during breakfast, which took a while.

I also begged Livvy and Alice to accompany me to the party, because I couldn't possibly go alone and come on, what are best friends for? That took another ten to fifteen minutes and only worked because Livvy conned me out of another butterbeer and Alice made me swear to essay-reading for the rest of the year, no excuses.

Once that was done, I had to get upstairs and find something to wear – something that looked like I didn't care, but did make sort of an effort. It took longer than I would've liked (my clothes are either way too casual or way too fancy) but I eventually borrowed Alice's green shirt and wore my most flattering jeans with it. I put my hair up in a messy bun at first since it looked like a disaster, but Livvy said it looked better down, so I stuck in a green butterfly clip and called it quits.

Livvy wore a semi-casual true-blue dress with her hair down and Alice was in a rebellious mood, so she wore her jeans and her obnoxious light green sweater that everyone hates. Me and Livvy begged her to please wear something else so that walking with her wasn't such an embarrassment, but Alice only grinned and dragged us along. We would have to deal with her dress choices.

Professor Slughorn is a good sort of man, very earnest and all that, and the food at his parties is always admittedly excellent, but he can be extremely tiresome when it comes to how he runs the parties. He has all these charming or well-connected people in his office and he decides he wants to fix them up, get them introduced, or else the world will explode or something. He's like this really fat, old uncle who really wants his nieces and nephews to get along, only most of them don't get along for their lives.

Today, he was at his usual tricks, and I was his first lucky victim of the evening.

"Lily, m'girl, nice to see you, nice to see you!" he chirped upon my entrance through his door. He bounded forward to give my hand a wring, his smile broad and unmistakable.

"Hello, Professor," I said politely, giving him my sweetest smile.

He gave my shoulder a very uncle-like pat that nearly snapped my collarbone and then said hello to "Miss Harris" and "Miss Prewitt, fabulous to see you both." He offered us refreshments and we moved forward – I found some friends over by the punch bowl. They looked pleased to see me.

"Lily, Alice, Olivia!" Adrianna, a lovely Ravenclaw girl who has endured these functions with me for years now, hailed me over with a grin. "Hello, darlings, we were wondering when you'd show up!"

"Addy, hi," said Alice, smiling. "Sean, Robert. How are you guys?"

"Good," Robert and Sean said together, waving. They were twins – adorable, brown-eyed twins who had dimples to die for. They were both in Hufflepuff.

"How are you?" asked Robert.

"Busy as hell," I said. "Livvy's the only reason I'm not failing all my classes."

"Not true, Lil," said Livvy, smiling. "You're clever. Just a brilliant procrastinator."

"Oh, come off it, Lily, you're a bloody genius," Adrianna insisted, swatting me in the arm. "The absolute cleverest person I know. How many O.W.L.'s did you get again?"

"All O's except an E in History of Magic." I'm still offended about that. Call me irrational, but when I was so close to all O's, that blip in my radar has inspired some wicked bitterness in me. Even now, I'm still not recovered.

But Adrianna was bloody impressed. She was looking at me like I was a re-incarnated queen or something.

"Merlin, that's brilliant," she said admiringly. "I got a P on my History O.W.L. and I was _grateful_ for it!"

I blushed. "Well…"

"So, are you all right after that accident on the Quidditch pitch a couple of weeks ago?" Robert asked, rescuing me from this embarrassing conversation.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine now, thank you," I said. "Madam Pomfrey fixed me up in no time at all."

"Dreadful, wasn't it?" asked Sean. "I mean, it must have hurt a lot."

"Yeah, but I was passed out for the worst of it," I pointed out.

We talked on like this for several more minutes, the conversation rallying smoothly between me and the rest of my friends. Adrianna (I refuse to call her Addy as Alice does), Sean, Robert, and I go way back to second year, when Slughorn first discovered how adorable he thought I was, and it's been that way ever since.

However, as we were conversing, Slughorn arrived on the scene, beaming as ever. He looked directly at me.

"Doing all right there, Miss Evans?" he asked.

"Just fine, thank you," I said.

"Good, good…well, I've got someone here that I think you would get along marvelously with, if you would follow me…" Slughorn coaxed me out of my group, and with an apologetic/alarmed look at them, I followed my teacher, wondering who he had for me this time.

Last year, he tried to introduce me to George, who turned out to be a puffed-up little snot whose father was the first cousin of the Muggle prime minister. He's also tried to introduce me to Wayne, who was nice until he tried to sneak me into a broom cupboard and put his sweaty hands on my bum. A few other failed attempts include Edward, who was deaf to any proclamation I made to not liking him and stalked me for a week; Brennan, who smelled like bleu cheese and tried to give me a neck massage; Richard, who bluntly informed me that he thought red hair was ugly; and Tom, whom I dated for three months until I realized all he wanted was a chance to steal my bag and copy my homework.

I swear, I don't know where Slughorn finds these people. He has a gift for finding the most repulsive boy at the party and attempting to get him into my life – which doesn't work, because I actually have standards. I know he was trying to be nice (they had excellent connections, after all) but we are not in the Victorian age anymore and I don't need to be married with babies by the time I'm twenty. Matchmaking is absolutely the _worst _invention society has ever come up with.

I know Slughorn is, in his own way, trying to be nice, but come on. Brennan was pushing it.

We circled the room together until Slughorn found the blonde somebody he was looking for. Jovially, he shouted, "Michael! C'mere, old boy!" as he dragged me forward.

But I stopped dead as the boy turned around, his leering, unpleasant face too familiar to my brain.

Michael Fink. The Slytherin prefect.

Oh, Merlin, _no_.

But Slughorn, oblivious to my silent plight, beamed and said, "Miss Evans, this is Mr. Fink, another wonderful student of mine. Mr. Fink, this is Miss Evans."

Michael's expression – like he had swallowed particularly distasteful cough medicine – mirrored my emotions. "We've met," he managed to say.

"Really?" Slughorn beamed. "Wonderful!"

"Yes," I said, clearing my throat. "Mr. Fink is a prefect and I am the Head Girl, so naturally, we have met before."

"That's lovely!" said Slughorn. "Miss Evans, did you know that Mr. Fink has an aunt who is a singularly gifted editor for the Daily Prophet? One of my own students in the past…a very delightful, talented woman…"

"No, I did not know that," I said, my smile tight.

There was a rather awkward silence here, as Slughorn sized up the cold situation between me and Michael, but he eventually gave up and excused himself. Michael and I contented ourselves with a couple of filthy looks before I scooted away, back to my group, who were all laughing hysterically as I came back around.

"Oh, Lily, my love, you could have fried an egg on your face!" cried Livvy, jumping forward and giving me a hug. "You poor dear. Yet another weird encounter with Michael Fink."

"He's an awful one, that Michael Fink," said Adrianna with a shudder. "I don't like him."

"I know," I said.

"We caught him in a Hogsmeade bathroom snogging the bloody hell out of some blonde girl a bit back," added Livvy.

"Did you really?" Alice's interest was instantly flared. "Blimey, you never told me!"

"We didn't?" Livvy immediately launched into an effort to fix this mortal wrong, telling the story with a gusto I attribute more to Alice than level-headed Livvy.

We spent a considerable amount of time gossiping about this sort of thing – Michael, then whichever other guys we saw that had public histories to discuss – and I thought I was over the worst of it. However, we weren't; because a curse in the form of a slightly snobbish-looking young man who can't have been a day older than sixteen. Oh dear.

"Hello," said the guy, appraising us coolly.

"Hi," I said. "Erm…who are you?"

"Weston," he said, offering me his hand to shake. "Eric Weston. You're Evans, right?"

"I am," I confirmed.

"Yes, you're the Head Girl." Eric Weston's eyes darted from me to my group, Alice in particular. "And who, may I ask, are your charming friends?"

"Oh, erm…" Wow, this kid was weird. "This is Alice, Olivia, Adrianna, Sean, and Robert."

"Pleasure," said Weston, shaking hands with all of them in turn. His eyes remained on Alice. "I have never come to one of these little parties before, so it's nice to have some acquaintances to meet with. Socialization is, I'm sure, the reason why these are held."

Oh, how little he knew. But none of us were in the mood to set him straight and so we remained silent a few moments, uncomfortable.

Then—

"Alice, isn't it?" he asked Alice.

"Yes," she said.

"Well, Alice, I have a large and sudden urge to get myself a biscuit and would be most obliged if you would join me on the endeavor," said Weston pompously, as though he were announcing a trip to the bloody Queen of England herself, holding his arm out to Alice.

Obviously embarrassed, Alice said, "All right," because she had no choice, and went with Eric Weston to get a biscuit. The instant we were separated, we gathered around and watched Weston's progress, giggling as we guessed what he was going at.

"I bet he's talking about the family business or something," said Adrianna. "Five Galleons he's got a Ministry-bound family."

"I'll take that bet," said Sean, shaking Adrianna's hand on the matter. "I think he's got someone in the Muggle world – Weston is not a name I know in the Ministry and I've got a father who knows practically everyone who matters."

"He thinks he's awfully important, doesn't he?" I said, wrinkling my nose. "Poor Alice."

Poor Alice indeed. She allowed him to talk on at her for a few minutes, but once he took a breath, she freed herself from him and returned to us, her eyes wide.

"Merlin, this is awful!" she panted. "I only just got away! Oh, please, Lily, _save me_!"

"Where does his family work?" Sean inquired at once.

"The father's in the Muggle minister's intimate cabinet and the mother's in some stupid business or another," said Alice. "I dunno. Something like that."

"Ha!" Sean beamed triumphantly, hand outstretched and waiting. "Five Galleons, Adrianna."

Adrianna glared at him and Alice. "Bloody hell," she grumbled, fumbling in her pocket for the money. "Here."

"Thank you!" Sean tucked it away and gave Adrianna a hug, which she accepted. They have always been really good friends, even when Adrianna owes someone money (which is, admittedly, often).

"You have no idea how much I hate this guy," said Alice dramatically. "He's horrible! He's boring and self-absorbed and thinks I really care when he tells me the 'inside scoop' in the Muggle world. I'm a bloody witch! I don't care what's going on in the Muggle world right now, particularly when I'm at a party my best friend dragged me to!"

She pointed at me. "You owe me big time, Lily Evans."

"I do not," I said crossly. "I couldn't have foreseen Weston."

"Well, I can foresee a very nice future without him now, so I suggest we leave," snapped Alice. "I _cannot _take another _word _of '_My _father says…' because I _swear _I will do unspeakable things to him."

"All right, all right, Alice, I hear you," I said. "You're very lucky I'm one of Slughorn's favorites. He wouldn't let me go quite so early if he didn't like me so much."

"No – if he didn't like you so much, we wouldn't have to be here talking to snobs and pretending the hummus is the best we've ever had," corrected Alice nastily, her mood thoroughly darkened by her evening's prospects. "Don't give me that, Lils. I need to leave."

"Okay, okay, come on," I said. "I think Weston's coming over here again, though, so we'd best be quick…"

We began attempting to sidle away from the crowd, but as we edged towards the door, to the portal of sweet, sweet freedom, so close we could almost taste it…

"Alice!"

We whirled around, surprised. I glanced back and the look on Alice's face was plain and easy – _ohpleasedeargoodnessnodon'tletthisboyanywherenearmeorIswearIwilldieorsomething_. But it was too late – Weston had already seen us and was coming to join us. Robert shot me a warning look.

"Hello all," said Weston amiably, giving us a pompous little nod. "Changed location, have we?"

"Yes," said Alice faintly. "We have."

"Well, I've found a couple of other people in my acquaintance over there, so if you would like to join me…"

"No thank you," said Alice firmly. "I'm exhausted and suffering from…from a terrible ulcer in my stomach and would like to take an early night…I'm sure you understand…"

"Oh, an ulcer!" Weston totally bought it with a look of horror. "Merlin's beard, that's dreadful! As a boy, I was unfortunate enough to have such afflictions on a daily basis – but if you would come with me to my dormitory, I do have a _very _effective potion to get rid of ulcers immediately. Very quick, it is, and very useful…I believe I have a spare vial in my blue checkered socks…"

Alice's face grew even more alarmed. "No! No!" she all but shrieked as Weston began taking her out of the room. "This isn't…erm…I don't…"

"Come along then, Alice, let's get that ulcer all fixed up," said Weston genially.

"No!" she yelled a little too loudly. Weston was startled, and a little hurt, so Alice clumsily backtracked saying, "Erm…I mean…no _thank you_, because it's a small one, you see, and it's almost gone anyway, just one more night's undisturbed rest and it'll go away."

Alice's smile was so awkward and obviously false that Sean and Livvy couldn't handle it anymore. They excused themselves for a moment to "get more punch" and I can only assume they went into a fit of laughter together, feet stamping against the floor and tears down their cheeks and the works.

I was tempted to join them, but clearly, Alice needed my help, so I cleared my throat and said to Weston, "I'm sorry, but I really must take an early night tonight as well. As the Head Girl, I was supposed to have patrol tonight and forced it on another member of the castle and I really must make sure he's all right. I will need to leave and it wouldn't be fair to the guests I've brought to leave them here without me…"

"I'm sure Professor Slughorn will have no trouble with that at all," Weston pointed out.

"Yes, but my conscience would," I said a little more determinedly. "I don't think I could take the guilt of abandoning my friends. I'm dreadfully sorry, Mr. Weston, but Alice, Olivia and I will be going now."

Weston was more than a little disappointed, but he took it in stride, deeming this explanation worthy, and said with a slight sniffle, "All right then, Miss Evans."

Then he turned to Alice and said, "It was very nice meeting you tonight, Alice. It is most unfortunate that our brief meeting must be cut so cruelly short, but—"

"Yes, thank you, Eric, it was lovely meeting you too," Alice cut him off with a forced smile. She grabbed his hand, gave it a shake, and then fled to Livvy, who was still with Sean, giggling and watching the fireworks.

I gave the stunned Eric Weston another apologetic smile and took Adrianna and Sean with me as we walked to the punch bowl. Alice was filling Livvy in on the gruesome details and Livvy and Sean were back in fits, Livvy about as pink as the strawberry punch.

"C'mon, then, we have to go before he suspects anything," I said.

"I wish I could come with you," said Adrianna glumly. "I'm sure I'm going to get another interrogation on my mum, who's working with some barmy idiot or another on some potion they think is going to change the world…just because she got lucky once, doesn't mean it's going to happen again…"

"Sorry, Addy," said Alice understandingly.

"I would've tried to bail you, too, but I was thinking fast and Alice was my main priority," I explained.

"I understand," said Adrianna. "Well, at least I have my boys for company, right?" She looked expectantly at Robert and Sean, who hastily began rearranging their faces into expressions of support.

"Oh yes, Adrianna…"

"Of course, Adrianna…"

"Good, that's what I thought," said Adrianna, a steely look in her eyes. "Anyway, it was good to see you three, and I'm sure I'll be seeing you again at some point for one of these bloody parties."

Hugs went around and more good-byes were said; and when every person had personally bid farewell to every other person, Livvy, Alice, and I were free to go. Slughorn was on the other side of the room, socializing with some poor bugger or another, so we didn't even have to take two minutes to say good-bye to him. We slipped out of the office and sprinted up to Gryffindor Tower as fast as our legs could carry us.

By the time we got in, it was about ten to ten, which meant James had a significant amount of his patrol still left. I considered joining him, but I figured I had been through more than enough trauma tonight – I could use a break and he owed me anyway. I ought to take advantage of the little breaks I'm given so that I don't go _completely _mad, right?

So here I am, finishing up this entry and thanking my lucky stars that I'm safely in bed instead of still stuck at Slughorn's. Goodness knows what might have happened to Alice if she was still stuck with Weston up there. I might finish McGonagall's essay once I'm done here – that would certainly be the responsible thing to do – but I have yet to weigh the pro's and con's of such a responsible decision. I have a feeling it won't happen, but a girl can dream.

And that…that is how my evening went. What a brilliant and fascinating life, right? I swear, sometimes I think I'm just going slowly insane and any day now, I will be admitted to some sort of asylum, shaking uncontrollably with my hand stuck in the position of quill-holding and rambling about my dead hamster Gigi in the present tense. It's not an appealing image, but it could certainly end up being my fate.

Eurgh. I really need a vacation – but a good night's sleep right at this second will make an acceptable start.

Screw the homework. 'Night.

--

A/N: I'm having a little too much fun at the moment. Clearly. But that's okay – just go on and review and it'll make me happy.


	13. I am Dragged on a Date

A/N: I know you guys want to see James, so I gave him a little passage in here, but it's nothing major…but hopefully, you'll enjoy it anyway, because I know I will! Or maybe I'm just easily amused. I dunno. Something like that.

Cheers, loves.  
X

--

October 20

**MORNING**  
_Status_: Disgruntled

Last night – Friday – I went to bed with a blissful relaxation kindled pleasantly in my small intestine. I knew that today – Saturday – was going to be my designated Day Off. A Hogsmeade visit would be in order, as well as some time with my friends and absolutely zero homework until Sunday.

It would be perfect, no responsibilities to remember except a prefect's meeting for an hour at noon, no worries. I was going to sleep in until eleven, for once, and enjoy it. I really was.

So this morning, I could feel myself starting to stir, but when I glanced at my window, the sky was still disappointingly dark. Damn. I continued to lie in bed and convinced myself that I had to go back to sleep, rest properly, and only wake up at eleven.

I did go back to sleep again. Wonderful. And I felt myself wanting to wake up about four different times afterwards as well; but, with a punch of virtuousness in my stomach, I continued to sleep, lost in glorified visions of myself waking up at eleven, so _late_, and so refreshed that I could take over the world single-handedly or something.

I was really quite proud of myself, to tell you the truth, when the fifth stirring of consciousness befell me. It simply must be near noon now, and I would be in danger of being late to the prefect meeting. But no matter, no matter, I'll make it. I feel great, I've had such a long and lovely sleep…

So I opened my eyes and stretched my arms out and breathed in the morning air of my dormitory. I saw that all the other girls were still asleep. Interesting. Maybe they need even more sleep-in time than I do, a feat I wasn't sure was possible.

I glanced at the clock on the wall as I got out of bed and I froze.

No, no, this couldn't be right.

The clock said the time was eight thirty.

I sighed.

_Fuck_.

**-**

During the aforementioned prefect meeting…

_Am I the only one bored to tears here?_

No. Not at all.

_Good. How long do we have until we're free?_

Fifty minutes.

_Shit. How am I supposed to survive this?_

I dunno, James. How do you survive History of Magic?

_I play hangman with Sirius_.

I'm not playing hangman with you.

_I figured. But Merlin, we're supposed to do this every __month__?!?!_

History is everyday and has been for the past six years. You can do this, I promise.

_Yeah…I have you, don't I?_

Dunno how much that'll help. It's only been two minutes so far.

_But still. Better than nothing, right?_

I'm glad to know you find me better than nothing. Very flattering.

_You know what I mean!_

Yeah, yeah, I know.

_This is a cute little book you've got._

Thanks.

_What do you write in it?_

Words.

_What kind of words?_

My words.

_You're clever_.

Thank you.

_You're not going to tell me any more than that, are you?_

No.

_Is it okay that I'm talking to you in here?_

This is where I do some of my note-passing, so yes, it is.

_Oh, right, with Olivia and Alice?_

Mostly.

_Wow. I wish I knew what girls talked about behind our backs when they're with their friends._

Keep wishing.

_One question._

Yeah?

_Sirius has a theory that girls talk about their boobs when they're in groups. Is that true?_

…Sometimes. That's all I'm going to say.

_Works for me! And Sirius._

I'm glad you're easily satiated.

_I don't dare look at the clock and get my hopes up. What's the time?_

Time for you to get a watch. Ha!

_Haha. You're hysterical._

No, seriously, you need a watch.

_I'll steal Sirius's next time I get a chance. Now what's the time?_

Twenty-two past noon.

_Fuuuuuuck_.

Such language. We need to work on that.

_D'you think Annie Potent would get mad at me if I took a nap?_

Maybe, but I definitely would. You're supposed to be the Head Boy! At least look like you're functional!

_You're right_. _But I'm too tired to care. Marauder stuff last night. I'm conking._

I sincerely hope you can sleep with your eyes open.

_Will you cover for me?_

Maybe. But if someone wants to make a loud noise in your ear to wake you up, you're on your own.

_Good enough for me. Good night._

Good night.

-

**12:23 PM**  
_Status_: Confused

Did I really just have the above conversation with James Potter in the middle of a prefect's meeting while Annie Potent makes another speech about inter-house cooperation?

Yes. Yes, I think I just did; because not only is the physical evidence of our handwriting there, but James is now sleeping very quietly in the seat next to me. And he is not the only person to do so.

Poor Annie Potent. She is so clueless. I am tempted to go to sleep as well, particularly as my sleeping-in scheme didn't work as well as I'd hoped earlier, but I'm the Head Girl. It's my _job _to pay attention. I'd better do that.

I won't write again until the meeting is over. Promise.

**2:35 PM  
**_Status_: Emotionally conflicted

Eurgh. Sometimes, I think the whole world would be a better place if there weren't boys there to populate it and confuse the thoughts of their fellow females. It would make everything easier. This is a thought that is crossing my mind now, as I begin to write about my afternoon since I left the prefect meeting.

There's quite a bit to say, so I had a muffin before I started. Sorry if the crumbs get on the page. I get unquenchably hungry when I'm confused.

See, today is October twentieth – and like my brain fart with Slughorn, I couldn't remember the significance of this day until after the prefect meeting was over. I was picking up my bag and slinging it over my shoulder, shaking James awake to tell him the meeting was over, and making my way to the door, eager to meet Alice and Livvy in the Entrance Hall as we'd planned for a day out in Hogsmeade.

However, my path to the door was blocked by one Jonathon Sanders, who was as bright and blue-eyed as ever, particularly enthusiastic for some reason.

"Ready to go, Lily?" he asked me.

I was bewildered, to say the least. "To go where? Hogsmeade?"

"Yeah," he said. "I'm taking you for lunch today, remember?"

And then it dawned on me. _Shit_, I had agreed to let Jonathon buy me lunch for the Bludger ordeal! He was actually going to follow through with that! Shit, shit, shit. Why did I let this slip my memory? (I allowed that to remain a rhetorical question, though, because I knew fully well what the answer was.)

I forced a smile on my face. "Oh, yes. Yes, I remember."

"Right, so are you ready? Can we go?" he asked.

"Erm…yeah," I said. "But I hadn't really mentioned it to my friends, so when we get to the Entrance Hall, I'll need a minute to let them know what I'm doing."

"That's no trouble," said Jonathon cheerfully. "C'mon!"

Surprising the prefects in the room, who were talking and getting ready to leave as well, Jonathon took my hand and began walking me out of the room. He was oblivious to the stares coming at us from every direction in the corridor. I wasn't – I was disconcerted. I wondered what they said about me, the Head Girl seemingly going out with the Ravenclaw prefect/beater. Would I be hearing about this from strangers later?

We got to the Entrance Hall a few minutes later and sure enough, there were Livvy and Alice, waiting for me. I eased my hand away from Jonathon's and approached them, feeling the heat rising to my cheeks. The girls grinned.

"Oh, Lily, is that Jonathon?" asked Livvy, peering over my shoulder at him.

"Yeah," I said. "I forgot our lunch date was today. Sorry."

"It's fine," said Alice, amused. "I mean, we'll go and do something else, but you need to fill us in on this new…development." Her eyes twinkled a little too much for comfort at these words.

"Shove off," I muttered, blushing even more. "I'll see you in a bit, then. Hopefully, this won't take forever."

Alice and Livvy were still all smiles as I rejoined Jonathon, telling him we could go. He tried holding my hand again, but this time, I stayed firm and kept my hand away from him. No hand-holding. Not if I could help it.

The trip to Hogsmeade went fairly uneventfully. There wasn't very much to say, because Jonathon and I didn't know each other well, didn't know what was off-limits and what wasn't. We only started talking when we got into The Three Broomsticks and got a table.

"So…what can I get you?" Jonathon asked quite graciously.

"Well, I had a late breakfast, so I don't really want lunch, but a drink would be nice," I said. "Maybe a butterbeer?"

"You sure I can't get you cheesecake or anything?" Jonathon inquired.

"I'm quite sure," I assured him. "I had a big breakfast."

"You _sure _about this?"

"Yes, Jonathon, I'm sure," I said.

"Well…if you're sure…I'll be right back then," said Jonathon, getting up from the table and going up to the bar. "You _absolutely_ sureyou—"

"_Yes_," I interrupted firmly.

Jonathon nodded and disappeared into the crowd. I was left at our table, drumming my fingers on the table, my chin in the palm of my hand, supported by my elbow. I didn't have to sit there long, though. Jonathon returned shortly, holding two drinks and a huge slice of cheesecake on a plate. I blinked a couple of times at the sight.

"You're really going to eat all that?" I asked.

"Nope." Jonathon grinned. "In my experience, even a girl who isn't hungry will eat at least half the helping of cheesecake. So it only makes sense I get a big one that we can share, right?"

He produced two spoons from his pocket and gave me one of them. I couldn't help but grin, just a little bit.

"Thanks," I said. "You're right – girls can't resist cheesecake."

Well, at the very least, _this _girl certainly couldn't. It really was one of the most delectable cheesecakes I'd ever eaten (and I have eaten plenty in my lifetime). It was thick and creamy and although it was vanilla, there were hints of coconut in there and it tasted heavenly. Jonathon was especially pleased when I scooped up some of the whipped cream on top with my next bite.

"You know, in my experience, girls never eat the whipped cream," he mused. "Something about 'empty calories' and 'watching my figure.' But I'm glad that isn't the case with you – I like a girl who can eat."

My face reddened and I regretted eating the whipped cream almost at once. But I said, "Yeah…not a lot of girls will do this. Your experience is generally correct."

"My sister hates whipped cream," said Jonathon. "She's older than me – eighteen – and she's a Healer at St. Mungo's. She insists whipped cream is the food of the devil."

"It probably is," I said, helping myself to a bit more. "But tell me – you keep talking about your 'experience' with girls. Have you had a lot of girlfriends in the past?"

"I've had four," he divulged, quite shamelessly I might add. "Four for more than six months, I mean. I've had six for less than six months."

"And you're in fifth year." I arched an eyebrow. "You've been busy, Jonathon."

Jonathon shrugged, his grin lazy. "I don't say no when girls ask me out," he said, "and if I like them, I go and ask them out right away. I mean, how else do you get anything done?"

"True," I said, sipping my drink. "Very true." For some reason, I thought of James as he said this.

"How about you?" he asked. "Have you had a million boyfriends? I wouldn't be surprised if you've been asked by half your year."

I bit my lip, embarrassed. "What are you insinuating here?"

"Nothing, really," he said. "Nothing hidden or sleazy or anything, anyway, if that's what you're thinking. I mean…anyone with eyes can tell that you're pretty. And it doesn't help that you're the cleverest girl in the school, or that you're very nice."

Suddenly, the room felt quite stuffy and warm. "Well, if you must know, I've had my fair share of dates," I said, "but I've only had two boyfriends long-term. And this year, I'm keeping dating to a minimum, because I've got N.E.W.T.'s and lessons to worry about. I have to focus on my schoolwork."

"A noble goal," acknowledged Jonathon, taking a hearty swig of butterbeer and attacking the cheesecake. "I have O.W.L.'s this year, but I don't think I could give up girls. Ever."

I playfully rolled my eyes. "You boys and your hormones…"

Jonathon laughed. "Yeah, blame the hormones."

"Why, who should I blame?"

"The hot girls who get our attention, of course!"

I gave him a half-stern look. "Jonathon. Don't objectify women."

"I don't do that," said Jonathon. "I love women. Women are great. But that doesn't mean they can't be hot."

"Let's get off this topic," I suggested with another bite of cheesecake.

"Good idea," said Jonathon, "because quite frankly, I want to know more about _you_."

"About me?"

"Yeah," he said. "I mean, I nearly murdered you that afternoon with the Bludger, didn't I? I want to know exactly _who _I might have ridded the earth of by mistake."

Merlin, this boy was exasperating. Even if I had been enjoying myself a minute previously, this was getting a tad awkward. I cleared my throat.

"Fine, I'll bite," I said. "What do you want to know?"

And so it went from there. Jonathon was a particularly inquisitive date, asking me everything about myself from the obvious things – favorite foods, color, hobbies, subjects – to more obscure things, like whether I fell asleep on my right or left side, if I liked being in photographs, what my favorite word was.

I answered his every inquiry the best I could, as honestly as I could, but it was weird, having to tell him all about myself. I tried turning the questions back on him, hearing about him for a change, but he wouldn't have it – he ignored me and asked me another question. It felt like a rapid-fire oral test and eventually, I told him so. He found this very funny.

"I'm sorry, Lily," he said. "You're just a singularly interesting person. I want to get to know you."

"As flattered as I am, Jonathon, this is getting uncomfortable," I said.

"It's okay," he answered. "Next time, you get to ask all the questions and I'll answer them."

I arched my eyebrow again. "Next time?"

"I mean, if you let there _be _a next time," Jonathon amended. "But, I mean, this is easy, isn't it? Just you and me, sitting here, eating cheesecake and talking. If I asked you out again, you couldn't say you'd had a bad time."

"We'll see," I said, checking my watch. "But right now, it's getting close to two and I need to get back to the castle. I have things to do."

This was something of a little white lie. I did have things to do, but I wasn't about to do any of them. My main motivations were twofold – one was to stop this interrogation Jonathon was conducting on my interests, while the second was to fill Alice and Livvy in on the "development."

Because as much as I hated to admit it, this window of time I spent with Jonathon revealed to me that Alice and James – the corrupted individuals that they are – were right. Jonathon _does _fancy me and he used the Quidditch accident to get me alone and on a date with him. And now he wants to do it again.

Jonathon's a nice kid, don't get me wrong, but he isn't really my type. While the cheesecake was a nice touch, I wasn't willing to spend more alone-time with Jonathon if I could help it. I hadn't been lying when I said I wanted to focus on my schoolwork.

So I gave Jonathon an apologetic smile as he gave me exaggerated sigh after another, asking me if it was _really _important and couldn't I stay a little bit longer? I said no, sorry, and he said he'd walk me back to school. This much I could agree with.

Emboldened by the success of our date, Jonathon chattered away on our return-trip to Hogwarts. I kind of tuned him out, so I don't remember what he was saying, but he certainly had a lot of opinions. I nodded politely and 'um'd' and 'ah'd' in all the right places, as I was so well-trained in doing after years of hanging out with Alice, and he continued on, a million miles a minute. I was actually grateful to come to the Entrance Hall, because it meant I could thank Jonathon, tell him I had fun, and that I would see him later.

Then I was free to sprint up to Gryffindor tower, barricade past the portrait hole, and look around wildly for Alice and Livvy in the common room. They were nowhere to be found.

I did locate Frank, though, and he told me he last saw Alice and Livvy in Honeydukes, back in Hogsmeade, only a few minutes ago. Wonderful. I thanked him and sprinted all the way back to the village, a stitch in my side by the time I arrived back where I had started before. At the very least, Jonathon wasn't there and I had gotten a bit of exercise to work off the cheesecake.

Frank was right – Alice and Livvy were in Honeydukes when I burst in, in search of them. They saw me and waved me over; I ran at them right away.

"Hey," I panted. "Found you."

"Yeah, you did," said Livvy, smirking as she brushed a stray lock of my hair out of my face. "You okay?"

"Long story," I said, trying to catch my breath.

"How'd the date go?" Alice asked with great interest.

"Let me tell you about it."

And with this, I did tell them about it – I told them the whole story, everything as well as I could remember it, from the walk over to the cheesecake to the questions to the excuses to the mix-up and coming back to Hogsmeade to find them. They were a good audience – Alice restrained herself from squealing several times – and by the time I was done with my tale, they were more than content to discuss it.

For the sake of time and interest, I won't go into the specifics of their opinions, but basically, they were amused as hell over the whole ordeal. Livvy said it was nice of me to go on the date, that it was over now and I could breathe easy; but Alice disagreed and said that Jonathon must be in love with me.

Now, Alice is famous for such proclamations – she always thinks that any guy who interacts with me positively must be in love with me – but today…today, I couldn't help but agree with her.

"I can't believe I'm saying it, but Alice, I think you're onto something," I said heavily. "I mean, he all but told me directly that he fancied me. He wanted to go on another date."

"Of _course _I'm right," said Alice triumphantly.

"But you know, just because he wants to go on another date with you, doesn't mean he fancies you," said Livvy reasonably. "Haven't both of you been on dates where the guy will tell you, you know, next time will be great, but there never _is _a next time?"

"Jonathon won't be like that," said Alice. "Trust me, Liv. From what Lily is saying, Jonathon seems to be a determined guy and he has a crush on her – he'll make her understand that some way or another."

Then she turned to me. "Mark my words, Lil, that boy will ask you out again. You'd better be ready for it – with a yes or a no."

We went silent after this ominous assertion. Livvy appeared defeated, like there was really no way to prove Jonathon's pure intentions; and to be honest, I felt the same way.

Maybe some girls find it flattering when Jonathon-type guys ask them out and display interest in them, but I'm not one of them. I don't enjoy being a girlfriend. There is enough expected of me from everyone else – I don't need more standards, particularly from some idiot who thinks it's okay to spend all his time trying to touch my arse.

Jonathon is a good kid. That much I know and freely admit. But more than that…clearly, he's not ready for a real, committed relationship and to be frank, neither am I. I have neither the time nor the energy to maintain anything right now, and with someone like Jonathon, who is so young to the ways of the world…I don't think it would work out for the better. Not at all.

I don't care what anyone – Jonathon or Alice or otherwise – says. This isn't going anywhere and that's final.

--

A/N: This certainly doesn't spell out the end for Jonathon, I can promise you that. So far, his character has been fun to write. I am not yet done exploring him…and no, that was not meant to be as dirty as it sounded!

Remember, loves, reviews are eternally adored; and the big, sexy review button is just _begging _for your attention down there…


	14. I Get Some Terrible News

A/N: I appreciate the opinions, guys – much more than I could tell you, anyway. This is a different project for me, one that is unlike really anything I've tried to do. It's not perfect, I know, but I'm doing the best I can to make it the very best it can be and I'm glad that it's working, for the most part.

This isn't meant to be a love story. It's meant to be what I call a "life story." Love is an inevitable part of life, so obviously it'll make significant appearances, but if that's all you're here to read, I'm afraid I can't help you until much, much later.

I hope you guys like this. Really. Cheers!

--

October 22

**Morning Check:**

Mornings have not been very good lately. Not good at all. In fact, Alice had to use _Levicorpus _for the first time ever to wake me up today. Sure I screamed a lot as the blood rushed to my head, but Alice said it was the only way to get me conscious. And I believe her.

I think I need copious amounts of alcohol and a temporary vacation from my life.

And it's only October.

**8:05 AM**  
_Status_: Exhausted

There is no way I can convince myself to pay attention in Charms today – absolutely no way in hell – so the only thing I'm able to do now is to open up the old diary and write. This is what I feel like doing every time I think my life is utterly impossible – which is often, these days.

I mean, things are trudging along as usual – lessons all day, homework in the afternoon, patrolling, more homework – and the routine has remained immovable. My friends have virtually the same schedule as me (except Livvy, who has Quidditch instead of patrolling and Alice, who bumps the homework up and gets time to sleep) so we're all stuck with our mundanity, talking only of class because that's the only thing that changes day to day.

Of course, there's gossip – Alice is privy to most of it and never hastens to pass it on to us – but that's about it. We're going through a dry spell, where there's not much going on and very little entertains us because we're chronically stuck in some stupid shade of gray. Nothing exceptionally interesting has happened to me since my date with Jonathon, which really says something.

The one bright spot in my evening is – surprisingly – my patrol with James. He breaks the mundanity a little, adds some spice to my schedule. I don't usually hang around with him or his particular brand of friends, so I have discovered all kinds of interesting tidbits about people, via James.

We've been really good friends thus far, I think. I mean, yeah, I was a little weird about it at the start of the year; but most of that weirdness has dissipated as we warmed up to the year, and now we talk easily all the time. It's like nothing ever happened between us as kids. I think James has recently gotten his priorities sorted out and he's actively engaging in a new sort of lifestyle for himself – and I have to say, it's working. He's blossomed into a lovely guy lately.

He's funny. He loves telling jokes and recalling weird incidents that made him laugh. He cracks me up – he's a terrific storyteller who gets very involved in what he's saying, who uses his hands and makes goofy faces and beams childishly when I find something laugh-worthy. He honestly seems to want to know about my day, he listens no matter how boring my account is, and he twists into something that has me in peals of laughter. It's great.

He did put me through an uncomfortable few minutes after Jonathon – he was entirely too curious about what transpired on our date and grilled me on it until he had sufficiently squeezed every detail I had out of me – but I mean, most of the time, we have an easy time together. The atmosphere is admirably light. There's nothing awkward about me accidentally stepping on his foot (it happened yesterday…) or almost poking his eye out (that happened yesterday as well and it's a dreadfully long story…) or walking into him by mistake (this happens everyday).

He's my one bit of Something Interesting in the day, my one piece of mealtime news with Alice and Livvy. For that, I'm grateful. It has been undeniably astonishing, relying on him the way I am for excitement, but without him, I fear I would have drowned in the mundanity of my life about three weeks ago.

I mean, look at me. What started off as simply spacing out in Charms class has turned into a fully-formed rant about how interesting James Potter, of all people, is. This is the sort of irrational behavior I used to preach about when I was thirteen.

My, my, how the tides do change. At least James doesn't know about all this. I fear he would piss himself screaming "I told you so!" in my ear day in and day out.

Lesson of the day: Diaries are fabulous devices. I wish I could thank their inventor personally.

Okay, okay, I'm going back to Charms now. I think I smell a pop quiz coming…

**8:45 AM  
**_Status_: Irked

My olfactory skills are impeccable. I did indeed smell a pop quiz coming. I just finished mine.

Luckily, it was really easy and covered material I actually read about last night. I must thank Livvy once class is over; she was the one who convinced me to finish the homework, because I would have been more than happy to throw in the towel and that would have won me nothing but disaster today.

Or…you know, on second thought, I don't want to tell Livvy anymore. She is like James – she would piss herself screaming "I told you so!" in my ear day in and day out as well. And Merlin knows I don't need any more of _that_ right now.

**5:25 PM**  
_Status_: Weary/nervous/anxious

Eurgh.

Buggerbuggerbuggerbuggerbugger.

I should have been better prepared. I should have looked at the date and gotten a clue instead of remaining, mole-like, in this underground world I've made my home in. I should have done something, anything, but now it is too late.

How did I miss this? I mean, today is the twenty-second of October.

_Halloween is coming up_.

I got the rude awakening this afternoon, when I innocently passed by the bulletin board in the Gryffindor common room. I happened to notice that there was a considerable crowd of people looking at something on there, giggling and gossiping excitedly. I saw Anthony Wilkins, a guy I know, among the group of onlookers, so I decided to go ask him what was going on.

"Hey Wilkie," I said, using his hated nickname. "What are you looking at?"

"Lily-kins!" Anthony beamed, using _my _hated nickname now, his brown eyes shining. "Long time, no see, eh? How you been?"

"Lovely," I said, giving him a hug. "So what is so interesting about the notice board today?"

"Haven't you heard?" he asked incredulously. "The Marauders put it up this morning!"

"Like I've ever been well-informed about the Marauders' various misdeeds," I said, rolling my eyes.

"True, true," mused Anthony. "Well, if you're that uninformed, I'll enlighten you. The Marauders are planning on having their annual Halloween party on Saturday, the thirty-first of October. The timing works perfectly."

I groaned. "Are they really? I thought they would give up that tradition now, since they're in seventh year and all."

"You kidding, Lils? This is an excuse to throw an even bigger party," Anthony pointed out. "This is their last year, their last chance to embellish their party-throwing legacy. Why wouldn't they take the opportunity?"

"Why do people say _I _am the smart one? You make me feel like a loaf of bread," I remarked, patting Anthony on the shoulder.

"Yeah, well, when I make my debut, you won't know what hit you," teased Anthony.

"You moron." I gave him an affectionate kick in the shins. "Thanks for enlightening me. I'll catch up with you later, yeah?"

"Yeah, sounds good," said Anthony. "See you around, Lil!"

He waved at me and I waved back before retreating to my corner, where Livvy was sitting with Alice and Frank. I collapsed on a chair and groaned loudly, making them start.

"Good heavens, Lily, whatever is the matter with you?" asked Frank, bewildered. After all these years of knowing me, he still wasn't used to my random displays of overt imperfection. He had rather a wholesome view of me I didn't always deserve.

"She's upset about the party," Alice explained, correctly interpreting the look on my face. "I think she forgot all about it and just found out."

"Merlin's beard, Alice, are you a Legilimins?" I asked.

"No, just a damn good friend," said Alice proudly.

"Are you terribly upset about it, Lily?" asked Livvy sympathetically. She knew how much those parties scared me.

"Not terribly, but significantly," I said. "I mean, they're always disasters, aren't they?"

"Mind, that's half the fun," Alice reminded me.

"Drunk, sweaty Gryffindors stumbling around in the half-light trying to stick their tongue down any available throat is supposed to be fun?" I have very strong opinions about parties.

"Don't start going all 'good girl' on me," complained Alice. "It's definitely fun."

"Not so much," Livvy disagreed daintily, coming to my rescue as usual. "I mean, it's loud and sticky and everyone's hungover in the morning, incapable of coherent thought. It's not exactly my cup of tea."

No, it isn't. In fact, Livvy hasn't gone to a Halloween party since first year. She has a will of steel when she wants to and Alice has not been able to break it down just yet.

"You don't have to be part of that," Frank said. "I usually flee to the dormitory when things start getting bad."

"Me too," said Alice.

"You know we've tried that," said Livvy, "but then it's like we're skirting around something, waiting for the worst to happen so we can run away to our hidey holes. That's not what you do at parties. That's not my idea of fun."

"So why don't we try and stay the whole time this year?" suggested Alice. "I mean, we've all turned seventeen already – why not enjoy ourselves, be part of something new for a change?"

I sighed. "I dunno, Alice…"

"No," said Livvy sharply.

"Livvy!" Alice whined her name. "Livs, come on, you have to come this year. You've, like, never come!"

"I came once," said Livvy fairly.

"We were eleven – it doesn't count," Alice counters.

"Look, Alice, if she doesn't want to go, don't make her," I said reasonably. "That's not her scene and we don't want her to be uncomfortable."

"Yes, _thank _you, Lily," said Livvy, giving me an air-kiss. "Leave me alone, Alice."

Alice pouted. "Liv, you stay back every year. C'mon. This is our last year. You can't tell me that you want to pass this final opportunity to see what everyone is talking about."

Livvy looked resolute, but I could tell that in reality, she was thinking about what Alice had to say. While it's fun for Livvy to be pled with, she was seriously considering the worst that could happen if she humored Alice and went to the party. It _was _her last year after all…

She took several minutes to ponder, mull the thought over, and we watched with bated breath, wondering if she would go with her old argument or succumb to our way of thinking. The odds were good both ways, really.

Then—

"We'll stay together," said Livvy firmly. "That has to be a promise."

"Of course," said Frank.

"Is it a deal, then?" Alice inquired at once.

"Yes, yes, it's a deal," Livvy agreed grudgingly. "But if you leave me even for a second, I'm ditching."

"Okay, okay, clingy-ass," said Alice, her expression joyful all the same. "You'd best bring gloves, it'll be filthy."

"You know I will." Livvy had her jaw set in that way she had when she was about to go into something she hated simply to prove she could. She has a determined streak in her that makes a person wish they had never questioned her bravery in the first place.

"Excellent," said Alice delightedly. "This is going to be so exciting, isn't it? Are you going to dress up?"

"I'm going to be a vampire, as ever," said Frank.

"You've been a vampire since the first Halloween I celebrated with you," said Alice with a roll of her eyes.

"I am going to be the terribly exciting costume of _myself_," snapped Livvy. "I think it's silly that we have dedicated a day purely for mooching candy off of people and not being ourselves."

Livvy is generally a cheerful, well-to-do creature, I know, but then she has moments where she gets like this – cynical, petulant, and bad-tempered. Some people are bewildered by this, assuming it's some radical dent in her personality, but I'm not one of these people. I know that Livvy is simply compulsive by nature and, along with the mundane things she must order around obsessively, she feels strongly about individualism. The trouble is, holidays tend to irk that particular nerve in her.

So here we are, discussing plans and Livvy says something waspish, triggering a huge groan in Alice, as well as an intense discussion on the merits of Halloween.

Alice thinks it's nice to have a break from being ourselves for one day in the year. She argues that it's a day of good-will – people give each other candy and get a chance to communicate with people they don't see everyday. And it makes the children happy. Think of the _children_, Livvy.

Livvy does think of the children – she announced that the children deserve something better than a commercial farce of a "holiday." She said it's stupid. She said you're buying the candy anyway, so you might as well eat it yourself, instead of handing it off to everyone else. What's the point in that, Alice?

Well, Alice had a point in mind. She shared it with Livvy and before we knew it, there was a full-scale debate raging between my two best friends. Great.

While Alice and Livvy battled this one out – they tend to battle a lot, while I remain neutral – I glanced at poor, bewildered Frank and said I was going to finish some homework in my dormitory. So I did come up to the dormitory, where I am now, but I didn't do any homework. I began to write in here, because I was so worried about the Halloween party.

Contrary to what Alice would like me to believe, the Halloween parties are not innocent fun. I'm with Livvy on this one. It's a thoroughly insane time to be a Gryffindor and with Halloween so close by, I figure I should reacquaint myself with the events of Halloweens past.

At the very least, I get to reminisce about the "fond" memories I've collected during these gatherings. At the very best, I've got cases in point to show Alice when I tell her I have no wish to go to this party.

And without further ado…

**The Marauders' Greatest Hits****  
**A list compiled by: Lily Evans

**Year One**

The Marauders got their idea for being party-hosts in our first year at Hogwarts, believe it or not. The reigning kings of the time – people I can't remember because it was so bloody long ago – threw an enormous Halloween party in the Gryffindor common room and it seemed like everyone who was anyone trekked to our tower that night. I don't remember much, because again, it was so bloody long ago, but what I do remember is every bit as bad as the parties that came afterwards. This was the party that put Livvy off of Marauder parties for life. Loud music, flashing lights, the stench of sweat and the sounds of heavy breathing…yep, that was a good time…

**Year Two**

This year, the Marauders threw their first party by themselves. It was much like the previous year's, except that they were far too young to snag drinks from Hogsmeade – we had to make do with pumpkin juice. "Luckily" for us, though, the Marauders knew some seventh years that could sneak out for firewhiskey, so about halfway through, they arrived to tumultuous applause with their prizes. People then drank themselves practically into comas and Madam Pomfrey did not have an easy time the next day, muttering all sorts of things under her breath. The Marauders, however, had a terrific time and planned fully on doing this all again next year.

**Year Three**

Third year was a particularly interesting year, because not only did we have the usual party shenanigans, we were thirteen and discovered that guys/girls did indeed possess functioning sex organs! Hooray! So that year, the dating game began, and there was enormous pressure to snog someone stupid by the end of the evening. James wasn't in love with me yet, so he didn't harass me about going together. He went with Gina Priestly. I wasn't going to go with anyone, but at the time, I had a crush on Ryan Cebrara and was enthralled when he asked me out in Transfiguration – so I went with him. Alice took Frank and Livvy avoided the issue by staying in her dormitory. The party was noisy and smelly and sweaty and this time, there were people from my year practically having sex on the dance floor. Cebrara tried to do it with me, panting in my ear and telling me I was lovely, but I was so upset that the guy I fancied was objectifying me that I ran upstairs right away and hung around with Livvy in the dormitory, wilting and disillusioned. Not one of my better nights, I reckon.

**Year Four**

By this point, James did fancy me and harassed me endlessly about going to the party together. He asked me pretty much everyday at _some _point or another and it was all I could do from chucking my supply of dung beetles for Potions at him. I told him there was no way in hell he could make me go. He gave up eventually, knowing he would never get my acquiescence, and he went with Hannah Moore. Alice took Frank again. Livvy refused point-blank to go. This year, I agreed with Livvy. We hung out in her room eating candy and talking. I actually had a lot of fun.

**Year Five**

The climax of my insane affiliation with James Potter was raging full-throttle during Halloween season in fifth year. So, for that reason, the pre-Halloween preparations were almost as interesting as the party itself. James launched all sorts of creative efforts get me to go with him, but he knew as well as I did that this was only for the theatrics – I was never _actually _going to go with him. He had a different proposal for me everyday for a week before the party. My favorite one was the one he did on the third day – he convinced all the portraits in the entire school to sing a song he had created for me. It had only eight lines, but it was insanely catchy and the entire school, amused as they were, began singing it as well, laughing themselves silly at my misfortune.

_O Lily Evans,  
__Red-haired maiden of Hogwarts,  
__The only way to get your attention,  
__Seems to be this poem of sorts…  
__I fancy you, Lily Evans,  
__And I wish that you could see,  
__That all I've ever really wanted is  
__Your presence at the party with me._

And thus, by the time the party came around, I was terrified to go. I didn't want him to try and win me over, nor did I want people talking about me because James did all these things for me and all I did was blush and say no. I tried to convince Alice that I didn't want to go, but she insisted that I skipped out last year and I need to come along this year. So, with every intention of running away the moment Alice had her back turned, I was forced to go to the party. It was every bit as bad as it had ever been – of course – but I stuck close to Alice and Frank and James (who didn't take a date that year) got so drunk, he couldn't see straight and couldn't, therefore, see me. But I didn't know the last bit until the next morning, when he was passed out on the floor of the common room, so I lived in fear the whole evening that he'd come near me. I nearly had a stroke when someone brushed by my arse, but there was no one there and Alice kept laughing at me. That had not been a good evening.

**Year Six**

In the weeks leading up to the Halloween party in sixth year, Alice managed to con me into a contract saying I would go to the party for my final two years at Hogwarts. I had no choice but to agree, because it was a binding contract and I was stuck. But it wasn't as big a deal this year because James hadn't spoken to me since school started and I was confident he would get his kicks from flirting with his girlfriend-of-the-time, Elizabeth Thomas. Relaxed as I was, I asked my boyfriend-of-the-time, Brian, if he would go with me and he did. We had a nice time on the fringes of the party, watching people get drunk and wishing we could show them how ridiculous they looked. Alice and Frank – together, as ever – hung around with us and Livvy, being Livvy, took refuge in the common room. We had a lovely time…until a drunk Sirius Black, angry with his date for whatever reason, plastered the poor girl's feet to the ceiling and left her hanging there. Then we decided it was too dangerous to be here and we fled up to our dormitories. Livvy could not have been smugger if she tried.

**Year Seven**

And now with those happy memories behind us, we are about to embark on the last and final Marauder Halloween party of the year.

Maybe for some, this is nostalgic. Maybe for some, this is a relief. But for me, this is a conclusion – bittersweet in all its childish glory – and it reminds me that this time next year, nothing is ever going to be the same again.

And on that cheerful note, I say adieu for the evening, because I really do have a lot of homework I need to get to and Livvy will be up any minute. She will be in a bad mood after her argument with Alice, I'm sure, and my slacking off will not help matters in the slightest.

Until later, then.

--

A/N: Yay for Halloween parties! Next chapter is a tiny bit more build-up and then the chapter afterwards is the party, which should be really fun.

Review away, fairest readers!


	15. The Halloween Chronicles

A/N: This will feel like filler, but trust me, some of this is stuff you actually need to know, lol. Enjoy!

--

_I would like to take this moment to interrupt my regularly-scheduled diary ranting in order to bring you…_

**THE HALLOWEEN PARTY CHRONICLES**

…_because this is all anybody cares about at Hogwarts right now, in light of the upcoming Halloween party the Marauders are planning._

--

Thanks to the overload of couples breaking up, coming together, or fumbling about around Hogwarts, all anyone can talk about is who is going with who to the Gryffindor Halloween party hosted by the Marauders.

People from other houses desperately want to go, but they need Gryffindor escorts to take them, or they are not allowed in. Plus, the boys have introduced an entry fee to cover their costs, so there's a lot of "I-need-money-now" schemes rampaging through the castle, as if the overcharged hormones aren't enough.

Being socially deprived of anything worthy anyway, I have decided that, for the next few days, I shall dedicate my diary to the various relationships being made and broken as we speak. Much of my information shall stem from Alice, who for some reason gets way more gossip than I do.

Here we go.

October 23

Sean asked Adrianna, whom everyone knows he secretly has sort of a thing for. His brother, Robert, whom everyone knows also has a secret sort of thing for Adrianna, is stark raving mad about the whole ordeal. Everyone is pending Adrianna's answer.

Molly Peterson, James's last girlfriend of sixth year, is planning on asking Black, but everyone knows he's going to say no. You can't just date your best friend's ex's – that's so not right. And Black hasn't been in the dating game since third year, when his relationship with Jennifer Hartley fell apart quite nastily, which makes it unlikely he'll go with anyone at all.

George Westrom asked out Emma Bell – which is significant because Emma is more high-society and George is more nerd-society. This sort of an invitation never really ends well, but Emma said she'd get back to him, which probably means he's been declined, but she's doing it nicely.

Peter Pettigrew, being one of the four hosts, is currently in search for a date. It is said his eye is on the beautiful Ashley Ray, but he hasn't asked her yet. More on that when I get information.

Remus Lupin, in the meantime, is steadfastly avoiding invitations to the party, although he's received a fair amount. Some are whispering that he's got someone in mind that he's working up the nerve to ask. I think that's adorable, personally. Remus is one of the nicest guys I know – he could easily get anyone he wanted. I hope he does.

October 24

Adrianna, wanting to avoid fuss, has declined Sean to the dance. She is not going with anybody; but everyone knows she likes him and would go, if Robert hadn't fancied her too.

Emma Bell has not yet answered George Westrom's invitation. She has one more day in which to do so before she looks like a hag for making him wait so long to hear her say no. There are lots of ears trained on hearing the outcome of this one.

Peter Pettigrew is still on the prowl. I hear Tiffany Oscarson asked him out during breakfast, but Tiffany asks everyone out, so this could still be myth. More on this when I get it.

No word yet on Remus. No word yet on James, either, come to think of it. I wonder who he's going to take. Must ask him during patrol later tonight.

October 25

Emma Bell has spoken. She would love to go to the dance with George. This surprised a great many people – myself included – but I mean, this could still be out of pity. Emma's a nice girl and it is very possible that she's only doing this because she doesn't want to look like a bitch for declining poor George, who is widely well-liked. I dunno. We'll have to wait until after the dance to see where they go.

Peter Pettigrew has asked Amanda Richards. Amanda accepted on the spot. Peter now has a date and several hearts have been broken around the school. If you look at Amanda now, she appears to have swallowed several lightbulbs, most of which are lighting up behind her face.

Remus Lupin still hasn't asked anyone. People are suspicious. Alice – jokingly, of course – suggested that Remus go with Sirius, who also hasn't asked anybody. I found it ludicrous, as did she and Livvy, but you'd be surprised at how many people believe such an outcome genuinely. It's more than a little scary, but I think Sirius secretly enjoys the controversy. He enjoys any controversy, particularly if he's the one in the center of it.

I asked James about the dance. He said he's got a girl in mind, but admitted to being too chicken-shit to ask her. I told him to go for it. It's a dance, not a proposal of marriage. He looked happier at that and said he'd think about it. I will ask him about it again tonight and swear that I'll make fun of him forever if he doesn't ask her.

October 26

I knew George was too lucky to be true. Emma Bell was caught today during lunch snogging her ex-boyfriend, Trevor, in the corridor. Trevor wants to get back together. George is heartbroken and is no longer going with Emma to the dance. Trevor is taking her. I think he was stupid to ask her anyway.

James, in the meantime, has decided he isn't taking a date. I asked him about the girl he liked. He said he was all right without her. I told him he was an idiot. He said he gets that a lot. He refused to answer any more of my questions on the matter, so I've been forced to drop it. I should ask Sirius about it. He knows everything.

However, Remus has finally asked Melinda Robbins to the dance. I highly approve of his choice - Melinda is one of the sweetest girls in the school, I reckon - and they are thoroughly pleased to be going together. Melinda has had a not-so-secret crush on Remus for pretty much forever, so it's nice to see something going her way. Sometimes, she just has the most rotten luck...

October 27

Today, _Livvy _got an invitation to the dance! It was from Russell Burgess, the Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He finally worked up the nerve to stutter it at her during breakfast this morning. I screamed and started freaking out at once, asking where this had come around from, and why don't know I know about him, and all Livvy could do was blush. Apparently, they liked goofing around on the pitch and she didn't think it was worth mentioning. Alice all but exploded and we spent a good hour or so analyzing what this could possibly mean. Livvy, for once, didn't lose interest. It's very flattering to be asked some place, especially if it's by someone who's cute, athletic, and supposedly just a good guy friend.

Meanwhile, last night, James informed me that Jane Carlton had asked him out to the dance. I don't know Jane Carlton well – she's a year below us – but I told him this was a poor excuse for getting over that girl he wanted to ask earlier and they probably wouldn't work out anyway, because their first names start with the same letter. Jane and James. No way. James called me an optimist and laughed at me. I grimaced and told him it was only because he knew I was right. He kind of shut up after that, which makes me suspicious.

October 28

Eurgh. Today, _I _got an invitation to the dance. I completely didn't see it coming – although perhaps I should have – but Jonathon cornered me after Charms first period (when I was still half-asleep) and asked me if I was going with anyone to the dance. I told him I wasn't and he asked if I wanted to go with him. I said no thank you, but it's lovely that you offered. He wheedled a bit more and then gave up, leaving me to breathe a sigh of relief and share my news with Alice and Livvy, who were most sympathetic to my plight. Alice had the smuggest look on her face. Sometimes I wish she wasn't right quite so much.

Meanwhile, a mini-scandal has just erupted. Emma Bell, who was supposed to be with Trevor now, dumped Trevor (again) and burst into tears as she begged George Westrom to go to the dance with him. George – bewildered but besotted nonetheless – accepted and Emma gave him a right big snog in the middle of the populated corridor. Trevor is pissed and apparently wants George's arse, but Emma won't let that happen. Hooray for happy endings.

October 29/30

No big news on the twenty-ninth – people have pretty much all of their date worries taken care of by this point – and now, the thirtieth, I am able to put this "Halloween Party Chronicles" aside again. It has been a lovely time, recording a small slice of the hormonal forthcomings of the past few days, but the party is tomorrow and I shall be able to write again with the happenings of _that _particular affair. Let me just say, I can't wait.

-Fin-

_And now we return to our regularly-scheduled diary ranting, as transcribed by yours truly…_

--

A/N: There we are. A short, fun little run-down of where we stand pre-party. Next is the party Part One. Rack in those reviews and I'll update ASAP!


	16. I Go to the Halloween Party

A/N: Happily, the "Halloween Party Chronicles" from last chapter appeared to be very well-received by you guys – which is great, because I was planning on doing another one when Valentine's Day comes around. Huzzah!

The party is going to span two entries – the first (this one) is where the action happens and the second is all repercussions. Hope you enjoy it!

--

October 31

**4:30 PM**  
_Status_: Weary

Well…Happy Halloween, I suppose.

Today is Saturday, the day of the highly anticipated Halloween party. It's supposed to start at seven, so of course we girls have to start getting ready now, so that we look _perfect _by the time seven approaches and our dates come to take us away. Literally – there are _no _girls in the common room right now. I would know, because I checked.

I'm in the dormitory right now with Alice and Livvy. They, like all the Gryffindor girls in our year, are preparing for the party. The bloody Marauders didn't specify if they wanted us to dress up or not, but it's a custom that most people do, so there's a lot of experimental Transfiguration passing around us.

Livvy has refused, point-blank, to wear a costume. It's enough of a miracle that she's going at all to force her to do anything else, so Alice reluctantly keeps her mouth shut as Livvy slips into a tiny strapless black dress. She's got a true hourglass figure – nice-sized shoulders, a ridiculously thin waist and significant curves – and the dress makes her tiny arse look especially nice. Alice and I have coaxed her hair out of its usual elastic and left it, curly as it is, loose on her shoulders. She looks lovely and is currently sitting beside me, complaining that she hates having her hair down.

Alice, on the other hand, is having a lot of fun with the idea of a party. Alice lives for such spectacles – she's restless and very easily bored with routines, the exact opposite of me – and she keeps her collection of dresses with her at Hogwarts for this exact reason. Costumes are out of the question for her, too. For tonight, she chose the best dress of the lot – it's plain and deep Gryffindor red, but it displays Alice's curves and cleavage to their best advantage. She is like me – we are both not particularly gifted in either department like Livvy is and we have to rely on fabric trickery to look half as curvy.

Me, I'm not ready yet. At present, I'm actually supposed to be looking for something to wear, but I've kind of given up on that. I don't own much party wear – I like jeans too much – and I'm not the same size as my friends, so I can't borrow anything of theirs. I don't much feel like going anymore, to tell you the truth, but I swore to Alice I'd go and if I raise a fuss, Livvy certainly will too and Alice would have to go alone, which she wouldn't appreciate. So I'm kind of stuck.

I guess I'll just put on my blue dress and be done with it. It's not particularly sexy, like Livvy or Alice's dresses – it's a halter that reaches down to my knees and it's not very tight – but it's all I've got. I'll hide behind my friends if I have to – which won't be hard.

Alice is calling Livvy and me up to the bathroom. She's finally snagged a mirror and insists she must do our make-up for us. This sounds ominous, but I figure I'll humor her. Plus, I'm the only one who can convince Livvy this is not suicidal.

I'd better go. I'll write again after the party.

**11:30 PM**  
_Status_: Utterly exhausted

Back from the party now. Merlin's beard, what a night it has been.

You know how people tell you that most of the time, you don't know what the most significant day of your life is until a lot of time afterwards, when you've had the time to reflect on it? Well, tonight I discovered that there are scenarios where actually, you know immediately that this is a significant day in your life, and the realization leaves you completely frazzled.

In actuality, it's very difficult to figure out where to begin, with the way I'm feeling right now; so I'll do this chronologically, from when I finally put on my blue dress and descended down the main staircase with Livvy and Alice.

The party was supposed to take place in the common room, so needless to say, when we came downstairs, we were already at the party. We came just a little bit after seven, so nothing had really started up yet and Sirius Black jangled a collecting tin under our noses to get our fee. We paid up and he offered us drinks, which we figured we'd take as we waited for more people to come.

Being girls, we began to chat aimlessly and after a few minutes, our patience was rewarded: Russell Burgess arrived to see Livvy. Surprisingly enough, I really haven't a clue who he is, so I met him for the first time this evening. He seemed nice – he was admittedly gorgeous and had the loveliest blue eyes, which I obviously noticed – and when he hugged Livvy, I could tell instantly that this was different.

I mean, Livvy is one of my best friends, but even then, I freely admit that she's got terrible social skills. If it weren't for me and Alice, she would barely talk to anyone at all. She's sweet and passive and weird, with her random compulsions and her zest for homework. She's not exactly the type that wants to star in her own love story any time soon; and yet, when she smiled at Russell, I saw something in her that I have never seen before.

After a bit of time talking to Russell and introducing ourselves – Alice in particular seemed to have a lot on her mind – he politely asked Livvy if she wanted a drink. Livvy said she did and at once, he disappeared to go get it, helpfully leaving us three girls alone to talk again.

"My word, Livs, _this _is the guy you have been keeping quiet about?" demanded Alice. "He's brilliant! He's borderline perfect! How dare you?"

"I honestly didn't think it was that big a deal," said Livvy, blushing. "I mean, it's like…like what was going on right now. We talk and we play Quidditch and sometimes we abuse James for being such a prat about conditioning. Russell is my friend and there's nothing more to it than that."

"C'mon, Livvy, don't be such a cow," I said, swatting her arm. "I saw the way you looked at him. He's not just your friend. You _like _him."

"Totally!" Alice insisted. "I mean, it's so obvious it's kind of sad! And he likes you too!"

"Stop blowing this all out of proportion," hissed Livvy, going redder. "Russell's a good guy. That's it."

"Exactly – so get a backbone and _do _something about this!" I all but shrieked. "You two _belong _together!"

"Who belongs together?" All of a sudden, Russell returns with a drink for Livvy, as well as one for himself. He appeared very sweetly confused.

"Oh," I said, going red. "I just…erm…Livvy was saying how she, erm, l-loves egg-rolls and I told her, you know, you ought to go get some, because you and egg-rolls…a love like theirs, Livvy and her egg-rolls belong together, you know?"

From the corner of my eye, I saw Alice shaking her head, fighting laughter. Livvy, too, had difficulty restraining a smile. I gave Russell a pathetic look, but all he did was laugh.

"I like egg-rolls too," he said. "It's cool if Olivia wants to ditch me for them."

"I've told you round about a million times to _please_ call me Livvy," said Livvy, giving Russell a poke in the chest. "If you use my full name, I might think you're mad at me or something."

"Sorry if I think your birth-name is pretty, _Olivia_," said Russell pointedly. "I just like it. And besides, with Lily over here, my tongue is going to get really confused. Lily…Livvy…it's all too similar for my poor guy-brain to handle."

Alice laughed appreciatively. "The guy drives a hard bargain," she said.

Livvy rolled her eyes. "We'll talk later about a special nickname just for your use," she allowed.

"Aww, thanks!" He gave Livvy another hug and nearly knocked her drink down, to which she stuck her tongue out at him and called him an idiot.

Alice and I were rather astonished. Livvy _never _flirts – she thinks playing those kinds of games is dumb – and yet, there she was, making goo-goo eyes at Russell as though he was the only guy of his kind. Which, maybe he might be. But still. It's utterly un-Livvy-like.

It didn't take long for Russell to get bored of me and Alice and whisk Livvy away. Surprisingly, Livvy went with him, not even thinking twice about her condition for coming – that we three girls stay together. I guess rules change when there's a potential boyfriend in the picture. Alice, for one, was extremely offended by this behavior.

"She's already acting like a girlfriend," Alice said, disgruntled, the moment Livvy was out of earshot. "This is…weird. Our Livvy as some guy's Olivia? It's not right. Sometimes, I _forget _that her name is Olivia."

"But she's happy," I reasoned. "I've rarely seen Livvy more relaxed. If she wants to act all girlfriend-y with Russell, I don't see why not."

"She said we had to stay together," Alice reminded me.

"Let her have her fun," I said. "When you get a boyfriend, we'll let you have yours."

"Yeah, like _I'm _ever going to have a boyfriend," said Alice, rolling her eyes. "I'm far too forward. Remember when Julius told me that?"

Julius was Alice's first and longest relationship, from year two to year six. They kind of fell apart, getting bored with each other, and one of the last things Julius said to her was that she was too forward – she made him feel uncomfortable. Then he promptly moved to Spain. Apparently, even being in the same country as Alice made him feel uncomfortable. And although Alice is well over that relationship now (after many nights of ice cream therapy and enough tissues to pad the world), she still likes to bring up his criticisms of her when she's in one of her low, self-hating moods. Like now, for some unfathomable reason.

"Alice, you are a lovely girl and someone's going to be your husband one day, so stop pitying yourself and have a good time," I said firmly, patting her shoulder. "Frank should be here any minute."

"You're right," she said with a sigh. Then she brightened. "Oh, wow, speak of the devil and there he comes!"

"Frank is a considerable improvement on the devil, though," I said, but my comment went unheard as Alice leapt forward to give Frank a hug.

"Hi!" she said a little too warmly.

"Hey, Alice," he said, hugging her back. "How are you?"

"Fine – you want a drink?"

"Yeah, yeah, let's go." Frank's smile was bemused as Alice began chattering away happily, dragging him away to the drinks table.

I watched her go, smiling slightly, because I've had an inkling for a while that Alice and Frank have the capacity of being something more. I mean, it's a classic love story, isn't it? The girl and the guy who are best friends, completely sweet and platonic – the two that fail at every hetero-sexual relationship they've ever had except for with themselves.

I'm not ashamed of saying that sometimes, I entertain thoughts of them two being in a relationship. With the way they are, it's a possibility not far from reality. I keep telling myself I'll talk to Alice about it, but then I don't. The sensation made another appearance as I watched the two of them laugh hysterically at something across the room.

When I shook myself out of my Alice thoughts, I found that I was by myself in my tiny corner of the common room. It was quite disconcerting to realize, with a jolt, that both of my friends had been taken hostage by the significant men in their lives. I had a drink in my hand and I was staring blankly into space, just standing there, doing nothing. Music was going, people were slowly coming in and dancing, and I was alone.

I decided to refill my drink at the table, taking a breath and determining my course of action. I considered taking this thought process to the lavatories, if I had to. But – and I'm not sure if it's a good or a bad thing – I was interrupted by a familiar sort of voice asking, "Lily? Is that you?"

Instinctively, I turned around; and to my less-than-pleasure, I saw Jonathon standing there. I blinked at him.

"Jonathon," I said. "Hi."

"Are you alone?" he asked.

Eurgh. Yes, yes I was. What girl likes to be reminded of that? Hadn't any of Jonathon's bleeding girlfriends taught him this before?

"Yes," I admitted after a long pause. "For the time being."

I had to add that. He might have taken my single-word answer as an invitation to join me; and I don't do the leading-people-on bit. Not purposely, anyway. So I filled up my drink and took a huge sip, like I had somewhere to be. But Jonathon wasn't buying it.

"You want to dance with me?" he asked. "The songs are mid-tempo, nothing fast yet."

"Don't you have a date?" I asked. "You're not a Gryffindor. How'd you get in?"

"Annie Potent," said Jonathon matter-of-factly. "She asked me if I wanted to go with her yesterday and I agreed, because I wanted to get in."

"Where _is _Annie Potent, then?"

"She found a friend of hers and they got talking," said Jonathon carelessly.

"Won't she miss you, if she asked you?"

"Merlin, Lily, I only just came over here to talk to a friend of my own, I'm not divorcing her after ten years of marriage," he scoffed. "And now I'm asking you to dance. Do you want to, or not?"

"No thank you," I said.

"I saw those two friends of yours with other guys," said Jonathon. "You sure you don't want a guy of your own?"

"Wait, how do you…?"

My immediate question was how he knew Alice and Livvy if he wasn't stalking me or something. Jonathon guessed this, because he smirked and said, "I'm good with faces. Those were the girls you talked to in the Entrance Hall before our date, I recognized them."

"Wow," was all I could manage. "You are…a very perceptive young man."

"Is that a good thing?" Jonathon wiggled his eyebrows.

"Sure," I said. "But hey, I've got to go, so you go and dance with Annie Potent, all right? I'll see you later."

"If you say so." He shrugged, but still appeared a little dejected as he left me to join the crowd on the dance floor. I thought I could see Annie Potent among them. I hope he danced with her, poor thing, because she doesn't strike me as the type to ask someone to a dance without seriously liking them and planning it obsessively for days beforehand.

Either way, though, after Jonathon, I got sick of the whole damn thing and considered calling it a night, going upstairs and admitting defeat. But I figured I'd stay, because it _was _my last year at Hogwarts and I might as well make the most of this party while I was here instead of being a loser and leaving. I _would _have fun, with or without Alice and Livvy.

I walked out onto the dance floor and saw a lot of familiar people. The only trouble was, they were surrounded by other familiar people. Like, I saw Russell and Livvy dancing up a storm near the middle (which, by the way, is the last thing Livvy would do at a party if she was by herself); Remus and Melinda laughing as they danced; Sirius dancing with a group of girls all clearly vying for his attention.

There was no one for me to dance with – except, to my great relief, I saw a friend of mine, Penny York, getting herself a drink.

At once, I joined her and said hello. She was pleased to see me and we had some pleasant preliminary conversation, asking after the other's health and complaining liberally about how stressful classes were. Then I asked Penny if she would come dance with me and she said sure. And just like that I officially had a dance partner.

We lingered near the fringes of the dancing area, chit-chatting as girls always do. Penny had plentiful gossip for me about the couples we saw – she would have been a great resource for the Halloween Chronicles I had been writing.

"And them, Thompson and Gates, they only got together because Carson over there told everybody Gates was a lesbian," Penny explained, gesturing at the boy and girl in question. "I mean, it's probably true and all – to a degree – but Gates freaked and asked Thompson because she wanted to prove she fancies blokes too."

"Really?" I gasped, aghast. "Well, obviously Carson told everybody except me and my friends."

"Well, I mean, when I say everybody, I just mean everybody Gates is close to," amended Penny. "It's a close distinction."

"I see," I said.

"Oh, and Potter and Carlton over there?" She pointed out James and my heart skipped a beat. I was bewildered by the reaction until I realized it was only because she was telling me dirt about someone I knew. Or thought I knew.

"Yeah, what about them?" I asked.

"Well, everyone's saying that he isn't really into her," said Penny. "Carlton asked him because she wanted to get into the party (she's a Hufflepuff, you see) and c'mon, he's probably the most fanciable Gryffindor alive besides Black. That much is common knowledge. But the reason Potter accepted her is still a mystery. Nobody knows why he would go with her when he could have someone he fancied much more."

"He did mention that he wanted to ask someone else, but he was too chicken-shit to do it," I reasoned. "Maybe that was it. He was being chicken."

"That would make sense," said Penny, "but he's over you now, isn't he? Who else would he possibly fancy enough to stray away from?"

"You never know," I said.

"That's true," Penny agreed. "But either way, there's a fair amount of speculation about that amongst my group. I mean, look at them. Does he look happy to be with her?"

I looked – really looked – at them then. On the surface, they looked like any other couple – James was smiling and Jane was dancing right up close to him – but as I continued to watch, the illusion fell heartbreakingly apart. James's smile felt forced, Jane's closeness superficial and purely physical. They were not having fun as they ought to be and I was sorry for that, sorrier than I was prepared to be.

But I didn't linger long on the matter, because Penny had more to tell me and I wanted to listen. We "danced" together for another quarter of an hour before Penny saw someone else she wanted to speak to and Jane Carlton left the dance floor right behind her, leaving James alone. Like me.

He appeared momentarily lost by the loss of his company, poor as it might have been. He reminded me so much of me and how I was feeling that I half-considered joining him, asking him for a dance, being with him. As friends, of course, because that's what we are now, friends. But something in me wouldn't let me go and I ignored my mad impulses, deciding I'd go talk to my friends instead. If they gave me unfavorable reactions, I would call it a night and retire to a bath and bed.

As it turned out, they did give me unfavorable reactions. Terribly unfavorable ones.

Livvy, so busy was she nuzzling Russell, she barely gave me the time of day when I approached. _They _were certainly getting on well. But Alice and Frank were no better, because when I arrived with them, Alice had her flirting face on and was, for whatever reason, holding Frank's cup of punch to his lips, tilting it into his mouth and making him gurgle. They said hello, but they didn't really want me there, I could tell.

Frustrated and utterly unwanted, I made my excuses and stormed away from them and I arrived up here. I'm still so upset about their behavior that it's difficult for me to write, because all I want to do is curl up in a ball and cry and wonder how we got to this point.

Me, Livvy, and Alice are inseparable. Always have been. I thought we always would be, but apparently, I was naïve and foolish to believe such a thing. How could I assume Livvy and Alice would be content to be misfits with me? They are beautiful, red-blooded young women who want to make their way in the world. They cannot always be there to entertain my cynical thoughts of failed party nights. They, like me, have things they need to do, people they need to be by themselves, without me.

But _still_.

Merlin, I can't even begin to describe how much it hurt to see them ignore me like they were. It felt like I was living someone else's life, seeing these people who bore no importance to me. This was something only bad friends did to each other, not friends like me and my girls.

I mean, Livvy – my antisocial, party-hating, OCD-compulsive Livvy – was _in the middle of the dance floor_ and ignoring me. She _hates _dancing; and this ruddy Beater that I don't even know can change who she is in one short evening?

And Alice – my lovely, insecure, loud-mouthed Alice – was _feeding Frank drinks _and ignoring me. She had just been lamenting that she would never have a boyfriend and then there she was, acting like the girlfriend she always hated, flirting with her best friend. How could she do that to me in a few short _minutes_?

It wasn't right, none of it. It wasn't fair, either. Besides Severus, I can't ever remember feeling so betrayed. I know it could be nothing, this transformation, but I also know that it could be everything. This could be the significant day that changes everything – the day that Livvy falls in love and Alice realizes how in love she already is. The day I am left standing in the dust, because my time hasn't come yet.

It's been such a crap night. I rarely feel any worse than this, even when my exams go bad or something, because usually, I have my friends to see me through. Now, all I have is me to nurse my own wounds; and that, that is not enough for me.

I'm going to bed now. The faster I do so, the faster morning will come, and hopefully daylight will be enough to solve what seems to be the most unsolvable predicament of my life.

-

November 1

**6:25 AM**  
_Status_: Exhausted and bewildered

Right now, it is exactly twenty-five minutes past six on the morning of November first.

Considering how much I hate mornings and how late I went to sleep last night – I finally conked at about one AM – I should not be awake to write these words at six twenty-five.

And yet, I am. Which clearly means that something is wrong.

Fortunately, I know exactly what's wrong – it's about four inches taller than me, with dark hair and dark eyes and a fickle tolerance for alcohol. Around here, it is known as Sirius Black; and that Sirius Black is currently curled up in a ball, asleep, on my floor.

Here's how it all went down.

See, after I fell into a troubled sleep after the party, I was dreaming something about being at The Three Broomsticks arguing with the bar-lady because I wanted a vegetarian taco and all they had was tuna. But in the midst of my listing off all the health benefits of vegetarian tacos, she began to bang her fist against the bar in a really loud knocking sound that really hurt my ears.

I thought this was rather rude; and as I started drifting into some kind of consciousness, I realized that while the tacos were fictitious, the knock was for real, and it was coming from someone outside of my portrait. Once I was awake, I heard screaming, too.

My clock on the wall told me that the time was three thirty in the morning. _Fuck_. Confused and thoroughly exhausted, I opened my portrait and looked out to see who my late-night visitor was. That was when Sirius Black, of all people, fell over onto my floor, on top of my feet.

Surprised, I screamed, and Black gave me a filthy look, covering his ears with his hands.

"Damn, Evans, _do _shut up," he requested irritably. "Ears are still ringin'…"

These few words were enough to establish that Black was completely crashed, one hundred percent, drunk-as-a-skunk. I sighed, praying that he had enough brain capacity left to tell me what the hell was going on.

"What about the party, Black?" I asked him. "Is it over? Where are your friends?"

"Party's over," he mumbled thickly, sitting up and leaning his head against my wall. "Dunno…Pookie was with t-that _girl_, that Melonda chick, a-and Petey was off doing summat…was supposed to go to Jamie, but he's…I dunno, he left early, told me to come to his room if I wanted…but I don't remember passwords, see, and everyone's asleep, so I came here…"

He had the nerve to grin here. "You _always _open the door."

Irked, I ran my hand through my hair. "Well, fortunately for you, I did open the door," I said. "But what am I supposed to do with you? I don't remember James's password either – actually, I'm not sure he told me in the first place – so I could just take you to your dormitory. I know the Gryffindor password…"

At this, Black blinked once at me and then promptly threw up on the floor. I groaned. Figures the moment I want to dispense him to somewhere/someone else, he does something that makes me feel bad for considering leaving him.

"No, no, come here!" I grabbed his collar and dragged him away from the pool of his sick. "Fine, fine, I'll keep you here. You obviously can't look after yourself in this state."

Black didn't respond to this, but he did look a little pale and weak, so I dragged him over to my bathroom, where I sat him up next to the toilet. At once, his back arched and he retched inside the bowl, coughing and sputtering. Thoroughly displeased, I held his long hair back, wondering why I had to babysit him at three o'clock in the morning when I was so exhausted myself.

But as we sat there, with Black coughing and shaking his head when I suggested getting out of the bathroom, he began to talk to me.

Well, no. He wasn't really talking _to _me – he was talking to himself, and incidentally me, since I was in the room. They were the neurotic babbles of a drunk, spoken quickly and hastily and with half the words slurred together into a mush of incoherent English, but I could understand it, and I listened.

"I just…Shannon was _all over _me tonight…" he had babbled once. "She was gorgeous, I know, but she's a brainless twat and her breasts were too small anyway…and she kept saying my name and getting me drinks…and she was _hot_…and she tried to snog me, and that was really _hot_, but I dunno, I didn't…it was hard to think, she was, like, an animal…"

"Must be nice, being you," I said with a sigh. My wounds from being abandoned by girls who were being hailed by other men were still very fresh in my memory.

"Yeah, it's _good _being me," agreed Black with some of his usual swagger. "I mean…it isn't just Shannon, innit? It was Jessica…Carmen…Emily…every girl with a chest, in short, and they were, like, all over me…and they brought me drinks, lots of 'em…and I'm never alone…never…"

Here, he trailed off, a pained expression on his face. Knowing this expression by that point, I immediately held his hair back and he threw up again. I flushed the toilet the moment he was done and wiped his face with a towel, swearing to myself I was _not _going to be a mother unless I had a husband who could shoulder some of this work.

And it went on that way for quite a while, me and Sirius Black, sitting in the bathroom while he barfed and told me all sorts of odd tidbits. I learned about his abundant life with girls, but was astonished to find that although he made a public show of flirting with them, that's where his love affairs ended. He didn't like being in a long-term relationship like that. Commitment was something he was wary of. I had never known that about him.

He also ranted about his family. That was an uncomfortable time for me, because he said some very nasty things about his relatives. Apparently, his mother was a hag and when he referred to her, he had an ugly grimace on his handsome face that I was not accustomed to. He hated his dad, his brother, most of his cousins. He hated being at home. He hated everything about being a Black.

Then he talked about his friends. James, "Pookie" (Remus to the rest of us) and Peter. He told me how they made him happy, how they were the only people that really mattered to him these days. He told me about some of his endeavors with James, how they enjoyed playing with magic and seeing what it could do to themselves and the people around them. All harmless fun, but terribly annoying if you weren't into that stuff, like me.

But it was fascinating, hearing all of this from him. He seemed to pour his heart out to me over that toilet bowl tonight. I felt like I knew him better, much better, just because he had no other place to go while he was drunk and miserable. He went off into passages of loud, purposeful French at one point and I was surprised because I never knew he knew French. I wondered where he learned it.

By about five thirty in the morning – two hours after he had stumbled in through my portrait hole – Black's retching had finally appeared to have passed. He had thrown up six times in the time he had been with me. I pulled out my wand and cleaned his mouth out for him, so that none of that disgusting aftertaste would remain with him when he awoke, and yawning, I took him back to my room.

I coaxed him up on my sofa, where I set up cushions for his head and gave him a quilt. I told him to go to sleep and I would deliver him to James in the morning. He seemed to like that and snuggled in, getting comfortable. He looked so achingly young there, falling into a drunken slumber in the corner of my room.

The last thing he said to me before he fell asleep for real was, "You know, Evans, you're a really good listener."

And then his eyes closed and I could tell he was gone.

I envied him this, because it's been an hour since that happened and I am still wide-awake, despite the fact that my body is exhausted and my brain feels like a wrung-out sponge.

I thought writing in my diary would help matters, give me something to do that would tire me out and put me to sleep. I guess it kind of has, because I can feel my lids drooping and my handwriting is getting messier, which it does when I'm tired.

This must be a good thing. It's six thirty on a Sunday morning, for goodness sake. It's time to go to sleep and now, I think the goal is somewhat attainable. I don't want to get up until at least three in the afternoon. If Alice and Livvy remember me enough to miss me, they can go cuddle with Frank and Russell respectively until I'm ready to see them again.

'Night/Morning.

--

A/N: This could actually have very easily been two chapters, but I figured I would clump it all in one because it's relevant. Repercussions will be handled next chapter, including Sirius, Alice and Livvy.

I wasn't sure how I felt about adding in that Sirius bit, but it comes in handy much later in the plot, so I put it in with my fingers crossed, hoping you guys would like it.

Review away. The button has always been right there. Cheers!


	17. I Endure Repercussions

A/N: Thanks for all the good feedback, guys, I do appreciate it.

I also must say that this chapter would never have come up when it did if it weren't for the quick wit of my fantastic parents. My computer crashed the other day, you see, and my dad managed to save my Word documents onto a flash drive, while my mother and I talked to IT guys all afternoon and saved the laptop. Now, everything's okay and I can post as smoothly as ever.

So be happy. I most certainly am.

And, without further ado, I present…repercussions! Huzzah! Read and review and we'll all have a very nice day.

--

November 1 Continued

**9:15 AM**  
_Status_: Head whirling

Well…after the enormous upheaval of the Gryffindor Halloween party last night, there have been plenty of after-effects rippling through today. The natural order of my world seems to have distorted and mutated in such a few short hours, and quite overtly too, and this new place I'm in is highly unfamiliar. I think narrating it in here will do me a world of good, because I still can't believe half of it.

So here we are on November first, the day after the Halloween party.

Naturally, the first order of business had to be attended to the moment I woke up. Today, it was at seven o'clock in the morning, because that was when Sirius Black arose and I heard him rise. Despite the events of the evening, my sleep was fragile (as it almost _never _is) and I stirred as well, confused. He appeared even more confused than I was.

"Evans…?" He looked at me, and then all around. "What the hell is going on…?"

"The party," I mumbled. Then I yawned enormously.

"What? What about the party? What happened? What was going on? Was I—? "

I made flapping noises with my hands as I finished yawning. He subsided, and then I explained in a sleepy murmur, "At the party, you were drunk. You came here at about three in the morning because you couldn't remember any passwords and were convinced I would always open the door to you. You stayed here the night and threw up in my toilet before falling asleep on my couch. You fell off of it shortly after, but hey, it's all good."

Understanding dawned on Black's face; but with it came some degree of alarm. "D-Did I really?" he asked me uncertainly.

"Yes," I said.

"And now I've woken you up again," he said.

"Don't worry about it," I told him. At this precise moment, though, I yawned again. Black looked awfully guilty.

"Look, Evans, I appreciate what you did for me and I'm really sorry I came in here," he said genuinely. "I must have been pretty wickedly drunk, because this hangover's worse than Remus having a go at me because I didn't do my homework."

"I can empathize," I muttered absently, remembering all the times Livvy has done that to me.

"Anyway, I'm sorry I put you on the spot that way and I owe you," he said. "Anything you need, just let me know."

"Thanks," I said, smiling tentatively.

"Now, I don't know about you, but I'm starved," said Black, cracking the wide, mischievous grin that I've long learned to be wary of. "What d'you say to some early morning breakfast before the crowds arrive?"

"It's seven AM on a Sunday after the Gryffindor Halloween party," I reminded him. "No one's going to be there besides us, I reckon."

"All the better," dismissed Black. "C'mon. Let's go."

And just like that, I accepted Black's invitation to breakfast.

We walked downstairs to the Great Hall together, still in our pajamas because Black thinks getting ready this early ought to be a class one felony, and sure enough, there was only a tiny sprinkling of students eating there. Black found this awfully amusing and selected a seat on the Gryffindor bench, gesturing for me to sit across from him. I did so and he stretched out across the wide expanse of area surrounding him.

"This is fantastic," he said appreciatively, loading his plate with goodness-knows-what from all over the table. "Don't you think?"

"Yes, I suppose," I said, selecting a piece of toast and buttering it.

Black eyed my plate suspiciously. "Is that all you're eating?"

"Of course not," I said. But then I remembered he had no idea how much I always ate, so I told him, "I start with toast and then make my way to everything else."

"And that means you do, in fact, eat this everything else?" he asked.

"Obviously," I said.

"I had to ask," Black told me. "I mean, I've been with girls who refuse to eat for three days and I'm like, how is that possible in this school?"

"I dunno," I said. "But I can assure you that will never be me. I like food too much." I took another bite of my toast.

Black grinned. "You know, Evans, I like you," he said conversationally. "Maybe it was a good thing I came to your door instead of James's."

I gave him a tight smile. "As flattering as that is, I would rather you go to James's door next time," I said. "I like to sleep almost as I like to eat."

"And you're the Head Girl?" Black stared at me. "How did that happen?"

"I ask myself that everyday," I said with a sigh, polishing off the last of my toast. "Hey, pass me the eggs?"

Black passed them over and continued to stare wondrously at me, as though he had never seen a creature quite like me before. I got slid some eggs into my plate and began to eat, but I could feel his eyes on me and it was pretty uncomfortable.

"Do you mind, Black?" I asked.

"Sorry," he said, snapping out of it. "Sorry, sorry. Just…thinking."

"About me?"

"Yeah," he said, unabashed. At the very least, I liked the honesty. "You are so different than what I thought you were."

"And what did you think I was?" I inquired, taking a hearty bite of egg and pouring myself some orange juice.

"I thought you were this nit-picky, responsible, know-it-all chick with a stick up her arse," he stated. "I mean, that's what most authority figures are, right? And as kids, you and James had some fantastic arguments about the stupidest things – I could only assume the worst."

I snorted. "Let me set you straight," I said. "During class, I try to take notes, but I end up doodling all over the margins at some point or another. I am absolutely incapable of waking up in the morning and have to dash madly to first period to avoid being late, often skipping breakfast, my absolute favorite meal. I hate doing my homework and procrastinate like the devil – nothing would get done, ever, if it weren't for Livvy Harris, who forces me to be productive. When I found out I was Head Girl, I dropped the badge on the ground and checked the letter over twice to make sure it wasn't addressed to someone else."

I arched my eyebrow challengingly. "How does that fit with your vision of me?"

Black went on looking intensely at me a moment or two. But he surprised me completely by bursting into a fit of loud laughter, his face alight with his giggles.

"Evans, I love you," he said, wiping his eyes and going back to his breakfast, still chuckling weakly.

"Thank you?" I grinned too, in spite of myself.

"No, no, just as a friend, I swear," he assured me. "And call me Sirius. I've deemed you worthy."

"All right," I said. "Then you may call me Lily."

"Cool." His smile lazy, he put his hand out to high-five me. I high-fived him back and he took this to be some sort of agreement between us; because from that point to the moment we finished breakfast, we talked.

And not just the kind of drunken talking Black – Sirius – did the other night. It was honest-to-goodness conversation, about lessons and school and people we mutually knew. Sirius is a good conversationalist, I have to say, and he, like James, was easy to talk to and fun to be around. He made things easy for me.

I have to say…whatever I thought of him before, it has changed as radically as his thoughts about me. It's amazing what can happen when you sit down to eat breakfast with your friend's best friend.

After breakfast was done, Sirius and I went back upstairs, because it was only eight and no one was awake yet. We walked together, our steps in-synch, and as we did so, it dawned on me that this might be the very reason girls fall in love with him. He's easy-going and charming and obviously very good-looking. He had a very nice mouth – don't ask why I noticed this – and there's something about him that makes you want to trust him, impress him, make him smile again. It's the strangest feeling, but I understand perfectly his appeal. He's dreadfully appealing.

We went into the Gryffindor common room and parted ways – Sirius up to the boy's dorm and me to the girls. I thanked him for being such a lovely breakfast companion and he winked. Grinning ear-to-ear, I went into the girl's dormitory (my perpetual hang-out) to see who was up, when I discovered inside that my friends were already awake in there.

My insides went cold at the sight of Alice and Livvy, sitting on Alice's bed and talking, Livvy's expression utterly distraught. I had not forgotten their behavior last night and I was still bitter about it. It's not a nice feeling to be dumped by your best friends for guys they claimed not to have feelings for. I stopped at the door and didn't come any further as they turned their heads and took in the sight of me.

"Morning, Lils," said Alice. Her tone was guarded – good, she had picked up on my feelings.

"Good morning," I said.

"We came by your dormitory earlier, but you weren't there," she said.

"I was at breakfast," I replied.

"Who with?" Alice knew I hated eating alone.

"Sirius Black," I stated, knowing it would shock them.

And shock them it did. They both stared at me with wide eyes, dropped jaws, and I shrugged, knowing this would kill them.

"He's a good guy," I said. "He dropped by earlier and we decided to eat before the crowds got there."

This much was true. Just not in context. Alice's expression was worried, but it was Livvy who spoke.

"Lily…are you all right?" she asked.

"Fine, why?" I made sure my voice was stonier than it ever was when I was with my friends.

"Last night…" Livvy fiddled with the bottom of her shirt. "Last night was a little weird."

"A little?" Softening, I came forward and sat on the bed with the girls. "You both were off with guys and I was left watching you go. That's more than a little weird."

"Lils, I'm so sorry," said Alice suddenly. "Darling, you must have been so hurt, and I was so stupid, and Frank…I was just excited to see him. I barely talk to him anymore, because we run in different circles, and it was great to clown about with him at last, but I shouldn't have ignored you. I'm sorry."

My heart a little lighter, I opened my mouth to speak, but Livvy beat me to the chase, saying more rationally, "Look, I know it was a bit rude of us to ignore you, but Lils…c'mon. You can't expect us to linger about forever."

"You didn't even want to go, Livvy," I reminded her, my temper flaring up at this dismissal of what had clearly been a crappy night for me. "You hate parties. You spent all your time bitching because you thought we were going to leave you. So does that make it okay for you to leave me?"

"You are a social person – you know people, unlike me," Livvy flared back. "You were fine and I'm not going to fall down and apologize because I went out and did something for myself, for once. I'm always taking care of you and Alice. One night to myself is not too much to ask for."

"You were acting like a girlfriend," I said, echoing Alice's words from the previous night.

"Rubbish – I was not," said Livvy readily. "Russell is a good friend and I admit, I was flirting with him more than I've ever flirted with anyone in my life. But we're still not going anywhere."

"How do you know?" I challenged.

"Because…" Livvy's face changed, her features crumpling before my eyes like a wadded up sock, and her tone lost all its color. "Because Russell is on my Quidditch team and James has an anti-inter-team dating policy that we have to adhere to, or we could lose our places on the team."

"We were talking about that just now, actually," offered Alice. "Trying to figure out what to do about it."

I was struck, for a second. There we were, talking about the dance and how shitty they made me feel, and then there goes Livvy, being wildly overemotional, and freaking out because James Potter said she couldn't date on the Quidditch team. This is not the Livvy I know. How can it be? Livvy would never do this. I was dreadfully confused.

"Livs…"

"Look, I don't want to talk right now," Livvy snapped. "I am not going to apologize for last night, Lily, so you can put that out of your mind and nurse your hurt feelings by yourself. Alice, I appreciate the advice, but I'm not going to talk to James about Russell and I am certainly not going to leave Russell in the cold. Let me be alone for a little while."

And with this, she got up from the bed and left the room.

I was taken aback as Livvy slammed the door shut behind her, leaving us engulfed in our bewildered silence. I looked at Alice, unsure of what to say, but Alice just sighed, looking small and upset.

"She's been all over the place emotion-wise this morning," said Alice. "She's really, really upset. She's cares about Russell."

"I get that, but I mean…honestly," I said. "She made the condition that we had to stay together, and then she turns a complete one-eighty on us."

"I think she needs some time to figure out what she wants," said Alice wisely. "Livvy isn't someone who experiments with relationships very much and this must be alienating her. Give her time. I'm sure she is sorry for abandoning you the way she had."

"I don't mind you guys going off on your own," I said, "I just mind it when you pretend like I don't exist. It hurt, Alice."

"I know," she said. "And I'm sorry. But…I dunno. I can't side with one friend over another, so I don't know what to tell you. Livvy's got a point and so do you."

"Livvy thinks it's okay to inexplicably bail on me because a guy on her Quidditch team gives her the time of day," I pointed out.

"And you think it's not okay for your best friend to explore a chance at being sociable for probably the first time ever on her own accord," countered Alice.

"Look, I would've been okay with it if she at least acknowledged I existed," I said.

"Lils, you're her friend," pleaded Alice. "Try to see what she's feeling."

"She hasn't tried to see what I felt," I argued.

Alice sighed. "Livvy isn't like you. I mean, okay, what we were up to last night was not ideal, but when the hell does anything work out ideally? You are good at making things work for you. You are good at being your own person. I am too. Livvy…has to work harder at it. Now she has a chance. Can't you forgive her, this once, like she does for you?"

"I just want to know that she cares about me," I said softly. "I don't expect us to stay together all the time, but come on, Alice. It's not fair to cold-shoulder me one night and then expect me to sympathize with your doomed love affair the next morning."

Alice swallowed. She was quiet a while, sitting there with me as we absorbed what the other had been saying.

Then—

"You're both right and you're both wrong," she eventually said. "You need to talk this out between yourselves. But the fact of the matter for right now is, you were okay, weren't you? You had other friends there, right?"

"Well, Jonathon came up to talk to me, but he doesn't count," I said, rolling my eyes.

Alice snorted, her humor fast returning. "You're going to have to do something about that Jonathon, Lils."

"I certainly will," I said. "But first I have to tell you about Sirius, I've been dying to tell you about it…"

I spent the next few minutes talking to Alice about what happened with Sirius – how he stumbled into my dormitory, how he barfed and talked to me, how he had breakfast with me and wanted to be on first-name terms. Alice was utterly entranced by this.

"So you're friends with Black now?" asked Alice.

"I guess so," I said. "I know, it's such a weird thought, because we're so different and all, but I dunno…I think he's a good sort of guy. I mean, he may act like he's got his head in his arse, but that isn't all he is. He just…he _gets _you."

"That's so _weird_," marveled Alice.

"It is," I agreed fervently.

The conversation about Sirius went on a while, Alice wanting to dissect the experience and figure out what it meant. I told her it was just a matter of being in the right place at the right time and gaining a friend out of it. Alice insisted there was something deeper at play here. I told Alice she was nuts and she said she probably was. At the very least, she knows that she's got a head issue she should get looked at.

Right now, Alice is at breakfast. She got hungry and decided to go eat. I told her to go ahead without me, because I'd already eaten with Sirius. Alice knows that when I'm stressed, I like to write in here, so she smiled knowingly at me and left for the Great Hall, allowing me to stay in the dormitory.

I feel better, now that I've shared what's been going on for the past few hours. I do, I feel much better. Some things have been resolved, like my situation with Sirius and my relationship with Alice. All that remains to be seen is Livvy and I'm sure Livvy will come around soon. I just need to give her time; and after all she's given me, I can afford to do that.

I'm living on very little sleep, so I reckon I'm going to go take a nap in my own dormitory for a few hours. I'll leave a note here for Alice, telling her I'll see her later. Sunday's already almost half over and I need to make the most of a sleep-in day. I have homework to look forward to in the evening anyway.

Here's to hoping the world will be even nicer when I wake up later.

'Night/Afternoon.

--

A/N: The way my outline was, I did want to resolve the thing with Livvy this chapter; but when I got around to writing it, Livvy's voice in my head didn't seem to want to apologize for a night she had enjoyed. I will address the matter again next chapter.

I also have a scene with James next chapter, which should be fun. If I decide to go the way I think I might, Jonathon has a little time in the spotlight as well. The chapter after next should be quite amusing as well. Stay tuned, guys!

Please do give the review button the time of day before you exit out of the story. Thanks!


	18. I Do Some Growing Up

A/N: Chapter eighteen already! Gosh, this is going by so fast – I never expected to have so much fun with this and continue it! Thank you so much for being so good about telling me exactly what you think. I do appreciate it.

This chapter features a nice, long James scene. Don't worry – I haven't forgotten the poor guy just yet!

Enjoy.  
Xx

--

November 3

**9:05 AM**  
_Status_: Relieved

Screw Charms. Complicated household spells are not going to cut it for me right now, because I've got more important things to care about.

This is a transcript of the conversation I had with Livvy a few minutes before, when she came to wake me up this morning.

Livvy: Hey.

Me: Hi.

Livvy: Good morning.

Me: Good morning to you too.

Livvy: Look…

Me: What?

Livvy: The thing at the dance…

Me: What about it?

Livvy: D'you mind, Lil? I'm trying to say something.

Me: Sorry.

Livvy: Well…obviously, things at the dance did not go the way we thought it would.

Me: No. They didn't.

Livvy: I feel bad that we weren't able to stay together, but Lily, you've got to understand, I don't regret it. Any of it. I mean, Russell…you couldn't imagine how he makes me feel. I didn't want any part of my world to come between us and so I didn't. I'm not about to apologize for it.

Me: Livs, I'm perfectly fine with you wanting to be with Russell. The only thing I had a problem with was being ignored. Even a glance in my direction would've made me happy. I don't take kindly to cold shoulders I don't deserve – like this one.

Livvy: So what do you want me to do? Fall down apologizing like Alice?

Me: No. I want you to drop the attitude and be my friend again.

Livvy: What made you think we weren't friends?

Me: The fact that we are hostile and cold over the issue of some guy.

Livvy: Russell.

Me: Whatever.

Livvy: No. Not whatever.

Me: Let me rephrase my previous statement. I do have a problem with you being with Russell, if that means you're going to turn your back on your friends.

Livvy: I still don't understand how I'm turning my back on you! Lily, you're my best friend. Always have been, always will be. Maybe now, I just want to branch out and live a little. That doesn't mean I don't still adore you to bits and pieces.

Me: I'm really, really tired of this whole thing. Can you sit with us at breakfast today?

(Side note: Livvy, in light of the Sunday turbulence, did not sit with me and Alice at breakfast yesterday. She went to sit with Russell.)

Livvy: (Quiet for a few moments) Yes. I would like that.

Me: Let me get ready quickly and we'll go down. I assume Alice is waiting in the Hall for us?

Livvy: Yes, I told her we'd be right down.

Me: Does she know that…that we're cool now?

Livvy: Why do you think I came for you instead of Alice?

Me: (grin) I love you, Livvy.

Livvy: (grins too) I know. And I love you too.

We hugged and I bounced off into my bathroom to make myself presentable. Five minutes later, we were walking out of my portrait hole to the Great Hall, talking at top speed. I had to fill Livvy in on the Sirius ordeal and Livvy had to not only react, but tell me what hilarious thing Russell did yesterday.

By the time we got down to breakfast, Alice watching us hesitatingly, we were acting like nothing had ever happened between us.

Maybe that's not a good thing. Maybe we shouldn't evade the main issue here – Livvy having a potential boyfriend and what that could do to her – but maybe we should.

Maybe we should focus in on what's going right, for once; and the rest can come later, when we're ready to handle it.

**1:30 PM**  
_Status_: Irked

Okay, you two, quit mouthing me stuff. You know I can't understand it. Alice, take this journal gently and read through what I wrote here. Some of it is repetitive, because you were there for the first bit, but my memory is faulty and I didn't want to miss anything. When you're done, pass the journal to Livvy – also, gently. I need your honest advice on something.

Flashback to right after lunch…

Me: (Walking with Alice and Livvy to class)

Jonathon: (Comes up behind me) Hey.

Me: (Jumps about a foot in the air) Whoa! Huh?

Jonathon: (Slips between me and Livvy) Calm down, Lily, it's just me. Wow, I didn't know you would be so easy to scare.

Me: (Miffed) I'm not accustomed to people bounding up behind me, thanks.

Livvy: (Annoyed) What are you doing here, anyway?

Jonathon: D'you mind if I borrow Lily for a minute or two? Or is that not allowed?

Alice: Wow, Lils. He's a charmer.

Me: Shut up. Fine, Jonathon, you may borrow me for a minute, but no more.

Jonathon: Great. Thanks. (Walks ahead of my friends, beckoning for me to join)

Me: (Undertone) I'm sorry. I'll be right back.

Livvy and Alice: Have fun.

Me: Yes, Jonathon?

Jonathon: How are you?

Me: Fantastic. You?

Jonathon: A little snippy today, are we?

Me: I have to get to class.

Jonathon: I like them a little feisty, lucky for you.

Me: Wait, are you…?

Jonathon: You want to go to Hogsmeade with me again? I'll buy you more cheesecake and you can take your turn with the questions.

Me: …You're asking me out again?

Jonathon: Yes. That's generally what you do when you enjoy the first date.

Me: Yes…

Jonathon: So what about it? You want to go?

Me: Can I get back to you on that?

Jonathon: Why?

Me: I want to think about it; punish you for scaring me.

Jonathon: Fair enough. Can you let me know by tonight?

Me: Yeah. I can do that.

Jonathon: Sweet. See you later, Lils. Is it okay if I call you that?

Me: We'll see. Bye, Jonathon.

And that's how it bloody happened! Alice, Livvy, help me. What am I supposed to do with this kid? He's under the impression that I'm available! And, I mean, I guess I am, but I don't really want to do this… -L

_He seriously wants to go out with you a second time? Wow. What a reason to rip a girl away from her amazing and charming best friends. How long ago was the first one? –A_

End of October – the last Hogsmeade visit. –L

_That makes this offer fall just before the two week mark. Bugger, Lily, I'm sorry – this means he likes you__. –O_

_And if Livvy knows that, you know what that means. –A_

I'm doomed. What should I _do_?! –L

_Tell him the truth – that you're not bloody interested_. _–A_

But I don't want to be rude. He's annoying, but he's a nice guy. –L

_Lily, not every guy that buys you cheesecake is nice. What if all he wants is to get into your knickers? –A_

What if he is genuinely interested in me and I break his heart? –L

_Look, Lily, I know it's not fun having to reject someone, but if you really don't feel very strongly about him, then you should get rid of him. Do you like him that way__? –O_

_Yeah, Lils, do you? –A_

Well…no. –L

_So dump him. –A_

_Nicely, of course__. –O_

How do you dump a guy nicely? –L

_You're kidding, right__? –O_

No… -L

_I wish you were. You've dumped plenty of guys in your time! This is just another one. –A_

Well, those guys were all certifiable jerks. Jonathon isn't. The only reason I'd be declining is because I'm not interested – which is mean. –L

_You do choose your times well for being a sweet little pushover… -A_

_Alice is right. It's up to you to tell him what you think of him, Lily. Otherwise, you could be in another, stickier position later down the road__. –O_

You're right. Both of you. I'm going to dump him when he finds me tonight. –L

_Atta girl, Lil! –A_

_Let him have it, Lily.__ –O_

I love you guys. Now pretend like you're paying attention. I have a feeling we're getting some dirty looks over there. –L

**10:45 PM**  
_Status_: Head whirling again

Merlin's beard do I have things to write about tonight!

Well…to start with, I suppose I could give an update on The Jonathon Saga, as Alice and Livvy refer to it. Personally, I don't think it's much of a saga, but whatever floats their boat.

Jonathon was true to his word about coming back to me in the evening. When I was checking in the other prefects and sending them on their way, Jonathon appeared out of nowhere and grinned at me. At first, I was bewildered, because it wasn't his day to patrol. But then I remembered what he wanted and I sighed to myself. Telling James (who was waiting for me so we could go upstairs) to wait a second, I walked over.

"Hey, Jonathon," I said.

"So, have you had enough time to think about my offer and punish me?" he asked, half-teasing.

"Yes, I have," I said, my stomach twisting into an uncomfortable knot. "And I'm sorry, Jonathon, but I can't go out with you this time."

"Why?" he asked immediately.

I was already feeling ill and embarrassed because I was rejecting him in the first place. I should've anticipated the question, but of course I didn't, and I got all hot and flustered and awkward.

"Well…my friends wanted to spend that day with me in Hogsmeade," I said lamely. "Sorry. Again."

"No, it's cool," said Jonathon. "I'll try another time, eh?"

He grinned and left me with a wave before I could open my mouth and say anything back. All I could think was, _Shit. He still thinks he has a chance. Alice is going to whip me around the head_.

But, at the very least, I didn't accept his offer for a date…so there.

Feeling very discomfited and tongue-tied, I returned to James and gestured wordlessly for him to come with me to the sixth floor where we started our patrol every night. Obviously, he was utterly intrigued by the conversation I'd just had, but he was nice enough to wait until there was no one else around before he began asking me what was going on.

"Hey, Lily, you okay?" he inquired first.

"Yeah," I muttered.

"Hey, Lily, you want to stop lying to me and tell me what's going on?" he inquired next.

"No," I muttered back.

"Hey, Lily, you want to answer one of my questions properly so I can stop talking like this?"

I sighed and gave him a look. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I know you and Jonathon went out…" mused James.

"Didn't I just say I don't want to talk about it?" I said kind of snappishly.

He looked a little taken aback by my reaction. To be honest, I was a little taken aback as well. I try not to be too snappy with people I'm friends with, but I just didn't want James on my case about Jonathon.

I mean, it's embarrassing to me, that a younger kid we both know fancies me and is trying to worm his way into a relationship with me. I was bothered by the fact that he was so persistent and more persistence from another source did nothing to help my mood.

"I'm sorry," I tried to backtrack. "I…am not in the mood to disclose any details."

"If Alice and Olivia were here, you would," James pointed out.

"Probably," I admitted.

"So what about me? Don't you trust me?" He made his eyes go all big and wide on me, enhancing his innocence.

In spite of myself, I giggled and gave him a swat in the arm. "Don't be stupid."

"You're not answering this question either, so I can only assume the worst." He arranged his face into an extremely mournful expression.

"James…" I said his name in a sigh.

"C'mon," he said. "You have to tell me now."

"Fine," I grumbled.

"I knew you'd come around," he said fondly.

I ignored this and said all in a rush, "JonathonaskedmeoutandtookmeonadateonthelastHogsmeadevisitandnowhewantstogoonanotherdatewithmeandIrejectedhimbutIfeelbadbecauseI'mnotinterestedandAliceandLivvysaythisisagoodthingbutI'mnotsure—"

"Wait, wait, wait, slow down," James interrupted. "I couldn't understand a word of that except for 'Jonathon' at the start and something about 'not interested.' So this _is_ about your 'relationship' and dating status?"

I deflated. "Yeah."

"So let me guess," he said. "He asked you out again, because he had fun on your first date, and you're not interested in him romantically; so you now feel bad for rejecting him, because you're sweet little Lily Evans and you don't reject people unless they're big fat arses. Am I right, or am I right?"

I could only stare at him. "Yeah. You are."

James grinned widely. "Really?"

"You don't have to sound so pleased about it," I said crossly.

"Sorry, sorry," he said. "But seriously, Lily, you shouldn't feel bad about rejecting him. I mean, if you're not into him, you're not into him. You can't do anything about that, can you? If he really cares about you, he'll let you have your distance so you can make up your mind without him. That's how you know if you're meant for one another."

My first thought: Aww, look how insightful he is!

My second thought: Holy damn, this sounds familiar. A little too familiar, in fact. Should I be worried?

I looked him in the eyes and searched his face for any signs of jest. There didn't seem to be any – he looked back at me, amused, as he would look at anyone else. I pursed my lips and considered him for a moment, but nothing more than that.

James Potter is a blip on my radar. He is not the norm for me. What we did and what we shared do not represent how I usually am with boys. Our relationship was rough and strange and childish and I don't want to think about it, revisit it when it's so long gone.

That's why I swallowed hard and cleared my head of the applicability of this little speech, nodding because clearly, I was supposed to agree. But I stopped and said, "I suppose you're right…still, though, I tend to feel guilty for saying no only because I'm busy and uninterested."

"So how could you not feel guilty for saying no?" he asked.

"If he had some sort of tragic flaw that drove me wild and gave me a valid reason to evade his company," I said. "But he doesn't. He's a nice guy – but not the guy for me. You know?"

"I do," he said, "and I think you need to think really hard to yourself and find a tragic flaw in Jonathon so that your brain can be at ease with its decision."

"Seriously?" Somehow, it was difficult to believe I was really having this conversation with _James Potter_, of all people.

"Yes, seriously," he assured me. "I mean…hmm. His inability to realize you're saying no could be a tragic flaw. That's enough to annoy anyone, isn't it?"

His face is as innocent as ever, but I feel another stab of déjà vu that I do my best to ignore. "That's true," I agree slowly.

"So there you go, you have nothing more to feel guilty about," said James. "Jonathon is an irksome prat who doesn't understand the meaning of the word no. How much more tragic do you want to get here?"

"You're right," I said, simply to get him off this particular conversation. With the way it was going, my stomach probably couldn't handle much more than this. "Yes, that's a great reason to not feel bad about rejecting Jonathon. Thank you, James – I shall keep this in mind."

"Very good." James's eyes twinkled with mischief. "See? This is why people tell me things. I have the amazing ability to fix their problems with a handsome smile and a few well-chosen words. It pays to be my friend."

"Forgive me for ever doubting your worldly skills," I said serenely.

"I'll do my best, Lily, I'll do my best." He winked at me, making me laugh; but when I settled down again, I saw that he was looking at me kind of seriously, like he had something else to say, something of more importance.

I looked at him questioningly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he said. "I just…I've been meaning to talk to you about something since Sunday…"

"Oh, you mean the Sirius thing?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said, his voice totally changed from what it was only a minute back. "I…I wanted to thank you, for what you did that morning after the Halloween party. He was drunk and shouldn't have wandered into your room and I'm sorry you had to deal with that. But I do thank you for handling the situation so well. Sirius had told me about it and I wanted to make sure you knew I appreciated it."

His face was so absolutely sincere as he beheld me there – like he had shed some thin layer of polite courtesy right here in the corridor and was now looking at me with something softer, something raw and usually kept aside for other days, other people.

The change in him struck me – surprised me, but more than that, touched me. His best friend really did mean the world to him, and his gratitude, so wholly unlike the brand I came in contact with, was sweet to me.

"You don't really have to thank me," I said. "I mean, he was there, and what was I going to do, make him sleep in the corridor? I did what anyone would have done in my place. It wasn't really anything special."

"Maybe not to you, but Sirius was impressed," said James. "He even allowed you to use his first name. That's not something everyone can do. I believe you're the only one, outside of us Marauders."

"Really?" I blinked, astonished. "Well…I don't know what to say. I'm flattered, but I dunno, I didn't do much. I let him throw up in my toilet and made him a bed on my couch. And we went to breakfast later. That's it."

James processed this for a minute. "Did he talk to you, by any chance, while he was getting sick in the toilet?"

"Yes," I said, frowning slightly. "How did you—?"

"Sirius is my best friend, Lily, he's gotten drunk with me before," said James dismissively. "I know how he is. Did he talk about his family?"

"Yeah, a little—" I began.

"I thought so," James interrupted me.

"I'm confused—"

"I know," he said, cutting me off yet again, a moody look taking over his face now. He seemed to weigh out his options for a few moments, and I watched – more confused than ever, I might add – until he took a breath and looked me in the eye once more.

"Okay, Lily, I'm going to tell you something I don't want repeated to anyone else, not even Alice or Olivia," he said. "Is that cool with you, or should I leave this for another time? Because I need your word on this one."

"Of course," I said automatically. I added, "You can trust me, James, like you said I can trust you."

"Why do you think I'm even considering telling you this?" he asked irritably. This secret must be huge, because James is rarely this agitated or edgy around me these days. "So I have your word?"

"Yes," I said.

"Right." James chewed on his lip a bit, perhaps wondering where to begin. I was about to say something, offer some ridiculous suggestion that wasn't going to help anyway, when abruptly he began to speak, and I closed my mouth to listen properly.

"I know you're a Muggleborn, so I'm going to tell you straight off the bat that the Black family is a very old, very wealthy Pureblood family that can trace all the way back to the Middle Ages," said James. "They're absolute nuts about their family history and about being Purebloods. They buy into the idea that anyone with 'unworthy' parentage ought to be chucked out of this world, because Muggles are absolute vermin.

"Sirius, as you know, doesn't buy into that at all," he continued. "He's one of very few in the Black family line who think that way. He's the only Gryffindor in a while, too, because the rest of them are Slytherins and very proud of it. Obviously, his parents aren't terribly proud of having a guy like him as their son, and you know how Sirius is when you put standards on him; so their anger only resulted in a lot of fighting and Sirius bitterly hating everything they stand for.

"Over this past summer, Sirius ran away from home," he said solemnly. "Said he couldn't take it anymore. He knew that it was the final straw and he wasn't about to welcomed back home ever again, so he's been camping out at my place. He swears it's only temporary, because some uncle's left him a spot of gold and he'll house-hunt once he's done with Hogwarts, but he knows I'm willing to keep him as long as he'll stay. I'm worried about him. Despite the fact that he hates the lot of them, they are his family, and his well-being was and still is pretty unstable after their last row."

James paused, but briefly. He went on in a slightly strained tone, "Sirius is going to be a little insane over this year and I know it. We Marauders, we're as worried about him as he is about everything else. We're trying to watch over him – Remus trying to worm some introspection out of him, me and Peter just trying to get him through the day as normally as possible – but I know nothing we do is going to ease what he's feeling. He'll get drunk much more over this year and if he comes to you more than once…at the very least, you'll know why. Sirius won't drink himself into any comas, but he'll be vulnerable to it if it's there. You…you should be aware of that."

He looked at me and for a second, tiny as it was, I could catch a glimpse of the massive fear he harbored for his best friend. No matter what those two boys are, they care deeply about each other, and that, as well as Sirius's recent history, hit me hardest.

All this time, James and Sirius have only ever been to me what any other duo has been in this castle. They're friends, but so what? I have friends too. No big deal. But now I can see that their trust in one another runs deeper than pranks and personal similarities and an affinity for trouble.

I dunno how to explain it, but they are realer to me than they ever have been. They're near-adults going up against a world that will do all it can to crush them and their youthful brilliance. Sirius – the guy who makes me laugh and has a lovely smile and who catches all the girls – ran away from home. Goodness knows what else I am not aware of in those boys.

James and I were silent for several minutes, wandering about the corridors together like mute phantoms. I waited a while before I said, "Thanks for telling me all that."

"You proved yourself worthy of it," said James. "I figured…you should know. If Sirius lets you call him by his first name, you deserve it."

I smiled slightly. "I guess."

"I know it's a lot to take in," said James. "It's been a lot for me too. I confess…part of the reason I'm telling you is also because I just, I can't take it anymore." Grief strained his tone again. "I mean, we're friends and I would do everything in the world for him, but it gets to be a lot on a guy. I wanted to get it off my chest a little, tell someone other than Remus how I'm feeling."

"I get it," I said frankly. "It _is _a lot, and I don't know how you deal with it all alone."

"I dunno," he said. "Day by day, I guess. Isn't that how we get through everything?"

"True," I agreed.

"Anyway…" James coughed and reorganized his features to appear less mournful. "Back to more cheerful topics, like the homework we have waiting for us upstairs. How much are you still stuck with?"

Grateful for the change in subject, I responded, "Oh, plenty. Livvy has been chasing me down all afternoon to make me do it, but I just can't. That Transfiguration thing made absolutely _no _sense to me…"

And the conversation rolled from there. To be honest, I don't really remember what we said. When I got back to my dorm room, where I am now, all I can remember is the conversations we had about Sirius and Jonathon and they're whirling about in my head like a tidal wave or something.

I guess, more than anything I've previously listed, what gets to me most is simply that after a year of silence from James and his friends, they have let me deeper into their world than I would've ever thought. I feel older than I ever have, sitting here and staring at my ceiling and thinking about family and loss and grief and fear and my place in a world so large.

James and Sirius trust me, trust me more than I ever thought I could let them. They're doing it because, in their own ways, they need me; and I, I have always been afraid of being needed.

While I take on the challenges given to me, like being Head Girl and keeping all my friends in line, I suppose I do shy away from serious personal commitments. I suppose it really is too hard for me to accept that two people I barely know can take that leap of faith and bring me into something I should never have been a part of.

With all these thoughts and feelings running through my head, it's difficult to come to terms with the fact that just a couple hours ago, I was worried about my best friend's boyfriend and rejecting a guy's invitation to Hogsmeade.

For better or worse, I am growing up. But nobody told me it was going to be anything like this.

--

A/N: This definitely got more serious than I thought it would towards the end, but there you have it, another update. Be gentle when you comment on this one, because I was a little unsure about the conversation flow in the last half.

And don't worry, the next chapter is much lighter. It features olives, an explosion in Potions class, and a riddle James cannot understand for the life of him. Should be great fun!

Review, review, review. You ought to know this drill well by now.


	19. I Enjoy a Bit of Madness

A/N: Thanks for all the brilliant feedback, guys, I do appreciate it!

In the last chapter's ending author's note, I promised a riddle that would drive James insane. I have one, but it didn't feel right, adding it onto this chapter, so I shall reference it next chapter instead. Sorry about that!

Otherwise…I don't have much to say except I had a good time writing this. Hopefully you shall have a good time reading it too!

Cheers.  
Xx

--

November 4

**12:45 PM**  
_Status_: Very giggly

My goodness! Livvy is so _silly_ sometimes!

Thanks to the olive incident, Livvy has wisely decided to leave lunch a little early. This means I am now in class a little early with some time to spare. I think this is a good thing, because now, I am able to immortalize the olive incident in this journal. November fourth…this is a day Livvy will always look back on fondly.

The whole ordeal took place at lunch today, but a few minutes ago. Here's how it all went down.

See, me, Livvy, and Alice were sitting in our usual places, Alice and Livvy one side with me on the other. We were eating lunch – there was some very nice steak-and-kidney pie today – and discussing my refusal of Jonathon and the conversation I had with James afterward.

True to my word, I didn't tell them anything about Sirius, but the rest was in-bounds and made for some very spirited dialogue between us.

"This is just so _huge_!" Alice cried, throwing her hands up in the air. "I mean, Lils, this is like _proof _that James is in love with you! I mean…it's so _obvious_! Why are you _still _in denial?"

"C'mon, Alice, how does James telling Lily to dump Jonathon translate into James telling Lily he's in love with her?" inquired Livvy rationally. "The only way to really know if James loves Lily is if he says so directly. Which he hasn't. So – and you might want to stay sitting for this one – _he doesn't love her_. Simple as that."

"C'mon, Livs, have you told anyone you love how you feel about them?" Alice asked scornfully. "No one ever does, so you have to rely on hints—"

"In case we're forgetting this, I was the one who dated him before, not you," interrupted Livvy. "I know him. If he cares, he will say so. He doesn't believe in bullshitting around."

"He probably doesn't want to get hurt again!" retorted Alice. "I mean, every time he tried to be bold and tell Lily how he felt, Lily put him down and made him regret it. Maybe he doesn't want to go there again; but he still cares about her, so he's hoping she'll pick it up another way. And I mean, come on…when a guy tells a girl that her lack of interest in another guy should result in her dumping him immediately, that's basically screaming at her, 'YOO HOO, I'M RIGHT HERE!'"

"James's advice was exactly what we already told Lily ourselves, so it's highly irrelevant," insisted Livvy. "Or are you suggesting you and I are in love with Lily as well?"

Until this point, I had stayed somewhat mute, letting my friends have a go at it so I could eat my lunch in peace; but by this point, I was pretty sick of their bickering. I decided to speak up.

"Will you lot _shut up_ now?" I requested. "James and I are friends, plain and simple, and he was trying to be helpful. Get over it. Here, have a sandwich." I held out the plate for them in the hope it would divert conversation a little bit.

Livvy looked at the plate with interest. "Are those olives?" she asked.

I actually had not paid much attention to the sandwich platter when I had shoved it under their noses; but once Livvy pointed it out, I glanced down and saw that the house elves had put a toothpick through each sandwich with an olive on top, restaurant-style.

"Yes, they are," I said, beaming. "Aww, how sweet!"

"Olive for my ickle Olivia?" Alice asked serenely, wafting an olive under her nose. She had that mischievous twinkle in her eye that meant she was still sore after their argument about James's feelings and this was her way of getting even.

It certainly had the desired effect – at once, Livvy got all fired up and snapped, "Oh, shove it up your arse, why don't you?"

"A little tetchy today, are we?" Alice – as accustomed as she is to Livvy's random outbursts – didn't even flinch. "Here. Have an olive. It'll make you feel better."

Livvy gave Alice a stormy look. "You are loathsome."

"Why, thank you!" Alice beamed. "That is – sadly – the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Livs."

Rolling my eyes, I took a sandwich and put the olive in Alice's plate. Might as well eat, since they're not going to listen to me anyway. I took a bite out of the sandwich – it was very tasty – and glanced around the Great Hall to see if there was anyone else I could strike up conversation with. Or, preferably, anyone whose name was not related to a vegetable.

Luckily for me, I did find someone – Sirius, who was ambling towards our side of the table for some dish or another. I waved him over and he came, grinning.

"Hey, Lily," he said. "How goes it?"

"The usual," I said, gesturing to Alice trying to shove more olives at Livvy, who was shrieking. "How about you?"

"The usual," he said, gesturing to his own table. I craned my neck to their corner just in time to see James and Peter giving Remus kisses on each cheek. I blinked a couple of times and the image was gone, replaced with Remus looking ill and James and Peter cracking up.

"Do I want to know?" I asked.

"Usually not," said Sirius. "Anyway, I wanted some steak-and-kidney pie and I see you've got some. Do you mind?"

"No, it's fine," I said. I turned around to pick up the dish, but at this moment, several things happened almost simultaneously, and very quickly.

I had my hands on the handle of the bowl containing the pie when Alice managed to shove an olive into Livvy's mouth. Instantly, Livvy screamed – she doesn't actually like olives very much – and then she began to make new sounds that sounded like raspy gurgles. Her expression was one of extreme panic.

_Livvy was choking on the olive_.

"Fuck, Alice, what the hell did you do?" I demanded. I shoved the dish at Sirius, who appeared quite concerned and remained standing there, and moved a few plates to the side. Then I pulled a tactic I have never even considered in the past: I climbed over the table to the opposite bench where Livvy sat, and began to do what I'd been taught as a child – the Heimlich Maneuver.

"C'mon, Livs, cough," I ordered. "Get that out of you!"

"Oh, Livs, I'm so sorry!" wailed Alice. "I didn't know you were going to bleeding _choke_!"

Livvy gurgled a little harder, but her lips were turning pale – we had to work fast.

Sirius put down the steak-and-kidney pie and put his hands down on the table, his face looming close to Livvy's across the table. "C'mon, Livvy," he said, adopting her nickname quickly. "Look at me. No, no, at _me_. Cough. Cough _harder_, cough like it's going to do something. C'mon, cough!"

Livvy coughed. She coughed as hard as she could and I kept shoving my fists deeper into her middle, trying desperately to convince her throat to spit up that goddamn olive. Sirius continued to motivate her, keep her focused on the task at hand, while Alice sat by helplessly, watching us work.

We were at it for what felt like several minutes (although it couldn't have been in real time, because Livvy would've died) until finally—

_PLOP_!

With an really strange popping sound, Livvy opened her mouth and spat the olive out…

…right smack onto Sirius's forehead.

_Fuck_.

Everything was still and dead silent for a couple of seconds as we took in what happened. Livvy was frozen, humiliated by both the choking and the destination of her olive; Alice was thunderstruck; I was astonished and still holding Livvy around the middle; the olive had fallen from Sirius's forehead to the floor, by his foot. None of us knew what to say.

Well, at least, we didn't until Sirius finally cleared his throat and said, "I think we got it, Lily."

"Oh…right." Stupidly, I cleared my throat as well and let Livvy go. "Erm…thank you, so much, for helping out, Sirius…"

"Always happy to be of service." Vaguely disgruntled, Sirius gave us a flick of his head and returned to his own portion of the table, choosing to leave the steak-and-kidney pie behind. He didn't look back.

I turned to my friends once more. Me, Alice, and Livvy exchanged glances, blank and confused, until – almost as if on a cue – me and Alice burst out laughing.

"Oh, Merlin, Livvy!" wept Alice, patting her shoulder. "The look on Sirius's face when that olive landed on his face! _Priceless_!"

"Goodness, I thought he was going to _die _or something!" I laughed like someone was rubbing a quill up and down the bottom of my foot – full-out, gut-busting, lunch-out-my-nose laughing. I still haven't a clue why that particular moment tickled me as much as it did.

"Oh, shove off, you two," said Livvy quite peevishly. "It wasn't that funny. I nearly died, in case you missed that bit."

"I was the one who was trying to save your life, of course I know you nearly died," I managed to gasp. "But…but…Livs, you choked on that…that olive…"

"Olivia Harris: Death by an Olive," remarked Alice. "They ought to write a book about you!"

"Or make a blockbuster film!" I added.

"Or you could shut up and I will consider not chucking more olives at you two," Livvy suggested waspishly.

"Livs, it's all in good fun, we swear," said Alice, her voice weak with mirth. "We love you dearly. Forever and always."

Livvy's face turned significantly pink. "Well, I don't want to talk about it anymore. And I've lost my appetite." She pushed her plate away (it was barely touched) and glanced down at her wrist. "It's time to go to class anyway. I'm leaving."

And with this, she fled the Great Hall.

Well, of course, when I checked the time, I discovered we had twenty minutes left for lunch; but since Livvy was gone, Alice and I polished off the last of our lunch and ambled up to class. We have History at the moment. Alice is in her seat, talking to a couple of her friends, while I'm at my own seat, writing in here.

And there's the bell. Eurgh. Binns is now starting up the lesson. I will have to control my residual chuckles for after class, because somehow, I don't think Binns is going to understand why anyone saying the word "olive" will be the death of me for the rest of the day.

**4:30 PM**  
_Status_: Even more giggly than before

Oh, Merlin…today is _not _Livvy's day.

My poor, poor best friend. I dearly want to give her a cuddle, but she's off doing homework and refuses to be disturbed – which naturally means Alice is sitting beside her and teasing her constantly.

I mean…she has good reason, but still…considering Livvy already has the olive incident behind her, she's feeling pretty down.

The second incident of the day occurred in Potions, our final class for the afternoon. Me, Alice, and Livvy work at the big table in the corner of the room – which is an advantage because not only can we stay together as a group of three, but because the table is located snugly in the back of the room, where we are generally not bothered.

It's an ideal location, on most days; but today had already proved itself to be different from most days.

After her near-death experience with the olive, Livvy was quieter than usual, and a little touchy, but she was otherwise okay. By Potions, she was even kind of cheerful; and the fact that today's potion was not as impossible as yesterday's, her mood appeared to be looking up.

We were going along smoothly enough, talking about something or another – I can't remember what for the life of me – when halfway through the period, we were interrupted by none other than Sirius Black.

He approached our table with a, "Hey girls," and grinned as widely as ever when we turned to look at him and Livvy groaned.

"Hi, Sirius," I said, determined to be friendly. "What's going on?"

"Eh, nothing much," he said. "Just needed to see if I could borrow your oliveImean a dead beetle from over here."

I had to admit it, the execution was slick. Very calm, very casual – his wording changed just in the nick of time but not so fast that we didn't hear what he was about to say. I was impressed and highly amused. So was Alice. But reception was not three for three, because Livvy's hands went straight to her curvy hips and she looked livid.

"Go borrow Potter's, or Lupin's, or Pettigrew's," she sniped. "Why ours?"

"Because I want yours," said Sirius impishly. "Won't you let me, Livvy?"

Finally, Livvy has had enough. Me personally, I'm not fussed about Sirius teasing – that's something he does all the time to everyone, no exceptions – but Livvy is extremely fussed. She gets out a beetle, as well as her silver knife, and starts chasing him around the room with both, shouting at him at the top of her lungs.

At once, not a single person has their eyes on their potions, because it's too good an opportunity to watch level-headed Livvy screaming bloody murder at Sirius, who had clearly picked the wrong day to mess with her.

Upon hearing the disruption, Slughorn began to get quite irked as well, and started yelling at the two of them to settle down, settle down, go finish your potion. His warnings fell upon deaf ears, because Livvy was hell-bent on getting Sirius for _some_thing.

At long last, Sirius and Livvy found themselves in a stalemate around a table, circling around it and daring the other to lunge for it and let them go. Slughorn futilely requested they please stop acting like first years, but the whole ordeal didn't stop until Livvy finally lost her temper and chucked the beetle at Sirius.

Unfortunately, despite being on the Quidditch team, Livvy has rubbish aim when she needs it most and Sirius dodged the beetle easily; but it still found its way into someone's cauldron. The potion we were making was fiddly, and when the beetle touched the liquid, it immediately exploded and everybody started, utterly astonished.

Alice and I found this hilarious, but Slughorn was a little less than amused. He gave Sirius and Livvy a talking-to in the corridor, and then awarded them each detention to be served next week. Sirius, who has spent much of his non-class-time at Hogwarts in detention, wasn't concerned, but Livvy certainly was. This was her first detention ever – and nothing we said would calm her down over it. She's been compulsive about keeping her record clean for seven years and now her hard work has been ruined, because she lost her temper with Sirius Black.

Poor, poor Livvy. It really has _not _been her day.

But, at the very least, she can take solace in the fact that she has thoroughly amused her two best friends, who have been looking for something to ease their everyday mundanity. That's always a good thing, right?

--

A/N: Eh, I know it's mindless and short and kind of like filler, but it's fun. Don't try and tell me you weren't amused out of your mind at your friend's misfortunes at _some _point.

Next chapter is a Quidditch match. More stuff will happen there. Go on and give me a review, just for the hell of it?


	20. I Witness a Mad Victory

A/N: I know how tempting it is to want to shout at me, "C'mon, Zay, give us a plot now!" But I'm going to request you don't do that, because I refuse to believe that life really has a plot. All it is, is a series of events that lead us to a conclusion where, if we want, we can look for some kind of meaning. Some events are small and some are large; I am making room for the large ones by getting smaller ones out of the way first.

This entry takes place on November 15. I can tell you right now that the Christmas season does good things for L/J and January onwards is full to the brim with drama and teenage love affairs. Just trust me when I say I've got stuff coming. Okay?

For now, this is a Quidditch match and some info on Livvy/Russell. That's another side story I'm going to spend some time on.

Enjoy, I hope.

--

November 15

**9:00 AM  
**_Status: _Excited

I know it's been a while since the last time I wrote, but there has just been so much going on lately, I really haven't had the time to catch my breath, sit down, and take a few minutes to note it all down. I have an hour now, though, so that's why I'm here.

Today – November 15 – has been a big day for a long time. Although I've failed to mention it, Livvy and James have been harping on and on and on and on and _on _about it for the past three weeks, because today is the day of the big Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.

Oh, lord, the Quidditch match.

James has been completely insane over the idea of playing Hufflepuff for the first time. He apparently watched them practice once and demanded a greater degree of excellence from his own team. It was his first match and he didn't want to be too lenient – so he went the other way and worked them half to death trying to make them go harder, faster, stronger, better.

To his credit, James has done some incredible work on them. I find it hard to believe they won't win, because they've trained so much for so long that they are an unstoppable unit. The team knows each other quite well and trusts each other. They've bonded because every single one of them has in common the fact that James has annoyed the living hell out of them.

They have reason to believe this – Livvy made me and Alice sit in on a practice once to witness the horror firsthand – but I mean, it does bring them together.

A couple of days after I'd last written, James put the team through a practice that Livvy came back livid about. She was yelling and screaming and throwing curses around in the dorm with me and Alice for what felt like hours, because goddamn it, she was sick of this. After she'd had her rant, she begged me to please do something about him, because she couldn't take this anymore and I was his friend, I could help them.

I agreed to do so and I must say, I am very pleased with the tactic I used and the results I yielded. During a patrol, I told James a riddle that had stumped Alice and Livvy for a while and let him spend nearly the entirety of the patrol trying to figure out. He couldn't. I told him I'd tell him the answer and ease his pain if he could ease the pain of his Quidditch team.

He knew instantly that Livvy had sent me – apparently, she gives him a lot of dirty looks on the pitch – but he agreed to the deal. I told him the answer (he insisted it was the dumbest riddle he'd ever heard in his life, including those that Sirius had sprung on him in the past) and he, true to his word, calmed down during practice.

Livvy was happy to report the next day that not a single person had a new abusive nickname for James after the practice. I got a team-signed thank you card from them the day after in Charms. I think I've officially been dubbed Girl to Get Favors from James, but I don't mind. I actually think it's kind of funny.

This morning, though, Livvy has been very jittery. She's nervous. She doesn't want to screw the game up. She thinks she is going to miss something and hit someone and kill them like Jonathon almost did to me (since she's a Beater and all). She is too queasy to eat. She has been shaky all day and dropped her bag on Alice's foot.

However, Alice and I are unperturbed by this behavior. Livvy is always slightly mad before a game – it's part of her process. All we have to do is let her psych herself out, because when she hits rock-bottom, she'll give herself a pep talk that actually works and brings her mood back up. Then she'll go out onto the pitch and play brilliantly.

Livvy is very emotional about Quidditch. It's everything to her. Generally speaking, she is a mild-mannered, gentle individual (minus a few chance incidents here and there) and Quidditch gives her a chance to let her steam out, but constructively.

Livvy is not like me. She hates writing and reading and sitting quietly. She needs to be doing something when she wants to relax, loony as that sounds. She loves being on a broom and zipping around and hitting things – it works for her and she's good at it. No amount of nervousness can change that. She's going to be absolutely fine.

Damn – I think that's Alice. I think Livvy's about to go on another I-am-freaking-out-and-this-match-is-going-to-be-a-disaster rants and Alice has no intention of enduring it alone.

I'd better go. I'll write again after the match.

**9:00 PM**  
_Status_: Breathless/Exhausted

Oh my word. It's nine already. It's amazing to believe that it's been twelve hours since I last wrote, but it has been, and there are several things I want to pen down to paper before I troop off to do a little homework before bed.

First and foremost, the Quidditch match went well today. Really well. Me and Alice were right to tell Livvy she was being a dolt this morning when she was complaining – the team flew spectacularly and had a very comfortable lead when they won. Gryffindors had every reason to go wild at the result and they did – they piled into the common room and somehow, a party got started in the middle of the afternoon. The Marauders disappeared for a half hour and returned with treats from Hogsmeade. People were cheering and screaming and jumping around and I was caught in the middle of it all, because Livvy was too busy basking in her glory.

"I just…when Potter scored those last few goals, I knew it was going to be ours, even if Hufflepuff got the Snitch," she told me and Alice. "And Russell is too good a Seeker to miss the Snitch anyway. It was ours. Hufflepuff never had a chance!"

"I wish you knew this in the morning," Alice remarked dryly. "Would've spared my ears plenty of bullshit."

"Alice." I gave her a little smack. "Don't be obnoxious."

"Russell!" Livvy didn't hear either of our comments as her eyes zeroed in on the Seeker in question, her eyes shining as she leapt forward to see him. "Hey, blimey, great catch out there!"

"Thanks!" Russell, beaming away, grabbed her and hugged her tightly, as though they'd known each other forever. "My gosh, Ollie, what a great match!"

"Ollie?" Alice didn't waste any time snorting abundantly at this. "_Ollie_?"

"We needed a nickname other than Livvy," defended Livvy, grinning sheepishly and going deeply pink. "It's only for Russell, though, so don't you dare use it."

"What's wrong with it?" asked Russell. "I think it's cute."

"No, no, it's adorable," said Alice, her snorting growing steadily louder. "Just bloody _precious_."

And then she had to drag me aside so she could laugh her lungs out in peace.

After that run-in, I didn't see much of Livvy during the party. If she had any inclination of talking to Alice and I, she didn't show much of it, because she couldn't tear herself away from Russell. He had her in his arms any time I dared to glance back at them and they would be smiling or talking or laughing or generally being utterly engaged in what the other was doing.

Wounds I recognized from that Halloween night became as aggravated as if Livvy had poured rubbing alcohol on them (and trust me, when Petunia did that to me by accident once, it hurt like _hell_). I wanted to talk to her about it, shake her and make her get it and bring this conversation up again, but for several hours, I resisted, instead focusing on other people.

Alice, of course, found Frank and we spent some time with him, laughing hysterically as he told us how the inter-house betting was going before the match. I teased Alice a little about acting like Frank's girlfriend – she vehemently argued that they were _just friends, _Lily, _gosh_ – and we drank more butterbeer than should be allowed.

The waistband of my skirt was feeling uncomfortably tight, but I figured, this was a party. It wouldn't happen that often. I could afford to indulge this once, couldn't I?

I also spent a little time with James during the course of the afternoon. His fellow Marauders were off with various other friends and he happened by the unofficial drink table at the same time I was refilling my glass.

"Hey," I heard someone say from behind my shoulder.

"Oh, hey!" I realized, the moment I saw James, that I hadn't congratulated him yet; so, without thinking, I wrapped my arms around his neck and said, "Nice job. You played really well today."

He gave me a little squeeze and then released me, appearing very pleased. "Thanks, Lily," he said. "Yeah…you wouldn't believe how nervous I was, though. Sirius had to use _Levicorpus _on me to shut me up this morning."

"Livvy was the same way," I said. "But for her, it was enough to slap her and call her a dolt."

James snickered. "She seemed fine when she came onto the pitch."

"Yeah, because by then, me and Alice had successfully calmed her down so you wouldn't have to see what we put up with every match," I said. "You ought to be grateful."

"I am," he said.

"Good." I took a sip of my butterbeer and asked, "Hey, you want a drink?"

"Nah, not really," he said. "I already had several. I only came over here because I saw you."

"How social of you," I remarked.

"You know me," he said serenely. "Social, social, social."

I gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Yep."

He chuckled and we stood there, semi-awkwardly, for a few seconds. I was the one to take another sip of my drink and say, "So I'll see you later, okay?"

"Yeah, that sounds good." He smiled sweetly at me. "See you."

This sort of meeting-and-greeting took up most of the time I spent at the party. I must have talked to every Gryffindor I knew – and I knew plenty of them – and darted back and forth, getting drinks and keeping track of Alice and Livvy so I could go upstairs when they did. I did that a lot when we were at parties.

I guess I could be considered social, but I say I'm only social within my limits; because although I'm very lovely and polite in groups, I do tend to want to leave after the shine has worn off the gathering.

Eventually, when I was getting my fifth helping of butterbeer (I promised my large colon a treat if it digested everything properly) I saw Livvy give Russell a peck on the cheek before disappearing upstairs. She appeared both elated and utterly depressed, an unstable and scary sort of mood, particularly for someone as unpredictable as Livvy. I didn't see Alice anywhere nearby, so I figured she was okay and ran after Livvy. I followed her to the girl's dorm, but she didn't see me. Not until we got inside and I came to stand by her bed.

"Hey, Livvy," I said gently. "How are you?"

"Oh, hey Lils," she said moodily. "I'm okay. What are you doing here?"

"Same thing you are," I said. "Hiding out in a quiet place to figure something out. Only, in my case, I'm trying to figure _you _out. You've got your thinking face on."

"It was loud downstairs," said Livvy. "I love celebrating Quidditch wins, but parties get to be too much for me."

"I know," I said.

"Were you doing that thing you do where you follow us up without telling us?" asked Livvy, cracking a grin.

"Maybe." I couldn't help but smile.

Livvy giggled. "Oh, Lily…"

As I let the contentment bubble up in me at our playful banter, I almost forgot I was angry with my friend. I remembered my hurt the moment I saw her twisting a lock of her hair and tucking it behind her ear. She does that when she's feeling murky; and she only ever feels murky when she is in disagreement with me or Alice.

I sat down on the edge of her mattress. "Livs, I…I want to talk to you about something." I said solemnly.

"What is it?" She was quiet, vulnerable. This was the right time to have this conversation with her – when she wasn't in combat position trying to defend her honor.

"Russell," I said. "I really do think we have to talk about Russell."

She didn't look surprised. "Yeah, I figured." She sat up a little straighter on her bed, facing me. "What do you want to discuss about Russell?"

"Just…Livs, I'm concerned," I said honestly. "Can you hear me out for a second here?"

"Of course," she said simply.

"The night of the Halloween party was one of the worst nights I've had here at Hogwarts," I admitted. "I mean, I've had some pretty miserable things happen to me over the years, but I could always kind of bear them, because I had my best friends standing by my side and keeping me brave. That night, I was left alone, without you guys, and I felt like you were completely out of my reach, because you ignored me and I was left to fend for myself in a drunken crowd of party-goers. I didn't like that.

"I don't know much about your relationship with Russell," I said. "I am fully aware that I don't. But Livs, if being with him turns you into one of those girls who chooses her boyfriend over the other people in her life who love her, then I don't want you to be with him. I don't want him to take you over. I want to stay your friend, Livvy, I love you too much to let you go."

Livvy listened, careful and passive, to all I had to say. When I finished, she held my gaze unflinchingly and stared at me for a while before she spoken again.

She said, "Look. Lils, I love you too. You have to understand that. You're my best friend in the world, the one person I trust above everyone else. I don't mean to abandon you or make you feel like you're losing me. But I see we do need to talk and I want to tell you a bit about Russell and me. Can you hear me out for a second here?"

I nodded. "Of course."

Livvy took a breath, her eyes going briefly to the window before returning to rest on me. The sunlight was hitting her on a lovely angle, highlighting her cheekbones and the brown of her irises.

She looked extraordinarily soft as she said, "Our relationship is still really new, barely anything yet. You have to get that right off the bat. I mean, Halloween was really the first time I was ever _with _him for any amount of time outside the Quidditch pitch. Today was the second time. In between, I was too busy training for the match to even consider having feelings for anyone. But now…Lils, I don't even know where to begin with us! It's impossible to know, because me and Russell…I feel like we belong together. It's almost like a romance novel – that feeling where you know, without any evidence to suggest anything, that you love the other person and they click with you in a way no one else ever will. I didn't think it existed, but Lily, it does!

"He understands me. He makes me laugh and I feel like we could talk for hours and still have things we haven't touched on, things we haven't had a chance to smile about. I don't feel awkward around him like I do with other people. I feel charming, and pretty, and cool…and I'm not stupid, I know I'm none of these things when I'm around strangers because I can be strange and have a rotten temper."

She sighed. "I don't know where we're going yet, but I do know that if he wants to, I would start a real relationship with him in a heartbeat. He's…he's all I can think about. It's pathetic. Being with him feels like it's the right thing to do, because he can see right through me, I swear he can."

She paused again, this time to give me a bewilderingly solemn look. "But there's a catch Lils – James. James, as the captain, told us on day one that while he wants positive relationships on our team, he doesn't want these positive relationships to mess with our game. You know how serious he is about Quidditch – he declared that we should not date on the team, because that could wreck something up and he doesn't want to give up the Cup because we can't think straight. He's pretty much against it; and if I go out with Russell, like I so want to do, I can't be on the team because James will insist we can't handle it."

For the first time, I spoke and said, "That's bullshit."

"Try telling James that and see what happens," said Livvy glumly. "He wasn't joking. It's like an unofficial policy, and it didn't bother me until…well…Halloween. Now, I don't know what to do and I'm festering and I want to be with him _so badly_, but I can't. And I don't even know if Russell wants me that way, because he's never said. It's all so terribly confusing and I don't feel like I have room to breathe and although I love you and Alice, I can't help but glance at Russell and wonder what he's talking about, wonder if I should join him. Lily, is that normal?"

Livvy's eyes were practically smoldering as she wrung my hand and begged me for advice. She looked somewhat wild, in a way she never really does – one of her nervous habits is to rumple her hair continuously and after her explanation, her hair looked like a really old mop. She was staring at me and suddenly, I felt just as confused and restricted as she, because this is the shyer of my friends and she is scaring me.

I swallowed thickly and wracked my brains for something to say, anything useful. I tried to think about what I had walked in here to talk to her about, but somehow, my head drew a temporary blank.

A minute or so later, I sighed and said, "Livs…what you're feeling is natural. The confusion bit, I mean, about how Russell feels. But as for the James front, you need to talk to him about it and on the friends front – meaning me and Alice – I think…I think you need to have a good, long talk with your priorities before you decide what to do there. Because I don't want you have to choose, but if you neglect either of us too much, you're going to lose us."

"I know!" wailed Livvy in a startling and rare fit of emotion. "Merlin's beard, Lily, you think I don't know what already? And I can't possibly talk to James, he would force Russell and I to stay apart, because his Quidditch team matters more to him than my fancies do. And I can't possibly live without Quidditch, either, because it's my _life_ outside of lessons. There's no way out for me, because the line is too fine for me to walk on and I'm going to fall and I'll lose _everything_. Lily, help me!"

Her face went straight into the palms of her hands and I could tell she had burst into tears. Clearly, Livvy had not felt this kind of emotion before and it was making her cranky and sensitive and terribly frightened. I felt protective of her as I watched her, because I know guy problems can be tough. I've had my fair share of them, and Livvy, who has only briefly dated two guys (James and this other idiot named George, who has since graduated), is inexperienced in comparison.

Carefully, I pulled her towards me and hugged her. She didn't fight me, resting her soft hair on my collarbone, and I let her unload a little on me, vaguely wondering how we went from me explaining how neglected I felt to Livvy crying over Russell.

"The only way to solve this problem is to think about it logically," I said to her when her sobs subsided some. "Talk to Russell and then talk to James. That's the only way to fix this – get right down to it and figure it out."

"You're right," she said. "You're right, you're right. You always are."

"Well, I won't say _always_…" I said with a smirk.

"Yeah, well, when it matters, you're always here," said Livvy honestly, cuddling in a little closer. "And I mean, you're bold. When you want something or someone, you go right for it. When I'm being a dolt, you tell me so. I've never been brave like you, Lily."

Thinking back to my countless examples of cowardice at Hogwarts, I can't bring myself to acknowledge this point, so I settle for saying, "You have to try, though, Livs. That's how you get what you want."

I gently shake her off of me and hold her shoulders tight. "Livvy, how bad do you want to be Russell's Ollie?"

To her credit, Livvy snickered, but her eyes and tone were tender as she said, "Very badly."

"Then you have to tell him," I said. "He won't know otherwise."

Livvy paused a moment and I thought it was because she was considering the best rebuttal to this statement. She's good with rebuttals to such statements, being friends with Alice the Incurable Romantic. I waited for it, poised for a cynical retort, but it never came.

Instead, Livvy said, "You know, Lily, you have to put up with a lot of bullshit from me. I know that. But I want to thank you for sticking with me despite it, knowing that there will be plenty more where that came from. You and everything you do for me is appreciated on this end, even if I'm dolt-ish and don't mention it."

So startled was I by this, I blurted out, "Russell has certainly changed you, Livvy – you've never been so damn sentimental!"

Again, to her credit, Livvy began to laugh. "You're right, I'm not," she said. "But sometimes, it's good to be, you know? You came in here to tell me about how you felt and I ended up telling you how I felt instead. So I owe you the sentimentality."

"We're friends," I said simply. "We don't owe each other anything, really. Unless you count the butterbeer I still owe you from goodness-knows-what."

"Eh, you don't owe me butterbeer anymore," she said dismissively. "We're even on all debts."

"Good." I smiled at her. "So…what next?"

"Well," said Livvy, wiping the last of the tears from her eyes, "I need to think of an eloquent way to approach Russell and tell him I fancy the pants off of him and you need to finish the last of your homework, which I've already done. So d'you want to hit the library and get that done?"

"Sounds like a good, solid plan," I said. "C'mon, I have to stop by my dorm to get my bag."

Livvy took her bag from the corner, scribbling a note to Alice explaining where we went, and we slipped out of the party in the common room (which was still going on in full swing). I got my bag and we retreated to the quiet comfort of the library, where I struggled with the principles of Transportation Charms and Livvy debated how to start up the conversation with Russell.

We remained downstairs for several pleasant, productive hours. Livvy helped me figure out a better beginning for my History of Magic essay and I suggested a better way of phrasing 'fancy the pants off of you.' Around seven, Alice arrived, having received Livvy's note, and she stayed with us as well, talking fast about the party but keeping her voice low so that Madam Pince didn't kick us out. She had plenty of gossip to share with us and we listened before sharing Livvy's resolution with her.

Alice, for one, was delighted by Livvy's inclination for a romantic relationship. She has always lamented that Livvy and I love too little, since we tend to be passive in our relationships and Alice thinks it's criminal to hold anything back.

She hypothesized that if this came through, Livvy would gain experience she sorely needs, since she hasn't dated in a while (George was in third year, James in fourth). I noticed she didn't hypothesize what would happen if this didn't come through, but I wasn't about to point it out.

The conversation continued into dinner and even a little bit afterwards. It was nice, the three of us girls, gossiping about a potential boyfriend who might make it into our little group. It was even nicer when we considered the fact that it was Livvy who might get the guy. I don't mean anything bad by it, but Alice is always the one who's about to risk her well-being for some pretty-looking idiot, and I like that for once, Livvy has put aside the passive cynicism and discussed love like it was actually possible.

That softer side of Livvy is one I never get to see – like the underside to some shell she stays hidden in all the time. Alice said it best tonight: it's a bit of a miracle.

Now I'm back in my own dorm, sitting on my bed, sucking my quill and wondering what to write next. My head pretty much resembles a carousel at twenty kilometers an hour. It's been a mad sort of day, to be honest. It's hard to know what to make of it. Livvy might be getting a boyfriend, Alice has been partying without us all day, Gryffindor won its first Quidditch game…it's all a colorful blur smearing across the front of my memory.

If I had something pithy but clever and conclusive to say right about now, I'd say it; but as it is, I'm bloody exhausted and I can't think anymore.

So…I guess I'll just end this by saying good-night. That's what the rock stars do and everyone goes mad. I could never be a rock star though, since I have a bloody terrible singing voice, so I guess that won't work…but still…

Good night all the same! I'll write again as soon as I can.

--

A/N: My brain decided to be dysfunctional at the end there, and I couldn't figure out how to end the chapter, so I let it be random. I mean, diaries are random, right? If I wrote down what I was thinking at any given time, I'm sure people would be questioning my sanity.

Next chapter – a spot of fun L/J bonding.

Review away and I shall update as fast as my fingers/schedule will let me.


	21. I Revisit a Mortal Fear

A/N: You guys are awesome. Your reviews amuse me. And no, Mary, it doesn't go quite like that – although that argument does come up a tad bit later.

Have fun with this one, you lot.  
Xx

--

November 21

**2:15 PM**  
_Status_: Surprised

You know, today, it took me a couple of minutes longer than usual to figure out what I wanted my status to be, when I wrote it in the line above. Obviously, I decided on "surprised" but I think a more accurate description is "surprised/astonished/brooding/confused/conflicted/annoyed-at-myself-for-feeling-this-way" but I figured that was a bit long.

The reason for this is quite straightforward and traces back to the prefect's meeting I had to attend at one this afternoon. I really didn't want to go, but it's one of those tiresome Head duties I'm stuck with this year, and I had to sit there in the room and pretend I cared about the dull conversation we were having.

Or, rather, that Annie Potent was having.

I rather think that Annie Potent ought to take my job over for me. I think Annie Potent is going to be the best Head Girl Hogwarts has ever seen, by the time she's old enough to take the post. I think Annie Potent is going to grow up to be a lawyer, a Ministry department head, and the CEO of a big company by the time she is twenty five. I think Annie Potent puts me to shame.

During the meetings, Annie Potent is the only one who talks. She conducts all the business I'm supposed to be conducting. And the best thing about her is that she doesn't need responses to keep rambling – she asks questions and answers them herself as well. The other prefects are more than happy to doze off and let her have at it (which is inevitable) but I find that she lulls even me and James to sleep, which is saying something because we're both trying our best to be responsible.

The whole meeting, I don't think I said anything after I started it off. Annie took my lead and flew with it, talking herself into a frenzy. I know I should feel bad about it, but I don't, because it's _so bloody boring_. Annie actually enjoys it. Ah well. At least I'm giving her practice for when this becomes her job one day.

Once the damn thing was over, I don't think the relief could have been more tangible in our little room. We all got up immediately and Annie bid us all good-bye instead of me. I didn't mind. I was almost out the door when suddenly, I heard the sound of a young girl sobbing quietly inside.

My first thought was the Hufflepuff prefect, Kate Patterson. She had been a bit red-eyed throughout the meeting, but I hadn't thought much of it. I slowed on my way out of the doorway, listening, and I was considering going back in to see if she was all right when I heard a second voice asking exactly that question.

I knew that voice anywhere, but I peered inside anyway, and found that James Potter was sitting beside Kate Patterson and asking, gently, what was going on.

I couldn't move. I remained rooted to the spot, curious to know how this scene would play out, and shamefully I watched, praying neither of them would look up and see me.

"C'mon, Kate, you can trust me," James coaxed her. "What's going on? You can talk to me, I can keep a secret."

Tears were still streaming down Kate's face, but she considered the offer seriously. Of course she did. This was the good-looking, charismatic Head Boy, taking time out of his day to ensure her emotional health wasn't too damaged. I think I'd consider the offer too.

She waited a few seconds, but she sniffled, "Okay. I guess I could tell you…"

"I want to know," he said, so earnestly that I could feel the empathy from the door.

Kate wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She was feeling the empathy too. "It's silly," she admitted, looking him in the eye.

"Nothing's silly if it makes you feel enough to cry," said James. "Is it a boy?"

"See, I told you it was silly – you could tell right away what I was upset about!" Kate's blue eyes were large and watery as the tears began welling up again.

"Boys are not a silly matter," said James with complete seriousness. "They can be real bastards sometimes, and you're a tough girl – there couldn't be anything else that would make you cry."

His words were honeyed, but they did the trick and they sounded true, and Kate responded with a cough and another wipe of her eyes. In her vulnerability, his words made sense to her, and I wondered how he knew what to say.

"So tell me," he said. "What did this boy do?"

"He was my boyfriend for six months," said Kate. "We were going great and we really liked each other. But this morning…this morning, I w-went to get something from my dormitory before breakfast, a-and I saw him in a corner of the c-common room, _s-snogging _some other girl like his bleeding life d-depended on it. I b-broke up with him and now I m-miss him terribly!"

Kate's lower lip was trembling as if in a hypothermic freeze and I could see she was trying her very best not to burst into tears again. From the angle I had on James's face, he appeared to be utterly sympathetic.

"Aww, Kate, I'm so sorry," he said genuinely. "What an idiot."

"But I l-l-love him!" she wailed.

"There are plenty of other guys out there," James assured her. "I mean, come on. A pretty girl like you is sure to get a lot of offers. Maybe he just wasn't the right guy."

Kate sniffled again. "Thanks for trying, James, but I love him and he doesn't love me and I don't want another guy – I want _him_."

James gave her a pat on the shoulder. "C'mon, Kate, pull yourself together. I know you're better than this. You'll be dating again in no time. You're only fifteen. You're going to be okay."

I don't know how she wasn't comforted by that. The way he said it, the way he had his hand on her shoulder the whole time…she's mighty ungrateful if she didn't appreciate that. But, luckily, she seemed to accept his words and rewarded his patience with a watery, but real, smile.

"Thanks," she repeated, this time with feeling.

"Hey, no problem," said James easily. "Thanks for confiding in me. I know that can't have been easy."

Kate's smile turned modest and she gave James a hug. He gave her a little squeeze and then they got up to walk out together. By this point, I remembered with a jolt that I was supposed to be gone, so I fled down the corridor, the emotion bubbling in my stomach and making its way up my throat.

I guess the reason I feel so surprised/astonished/brooding/confused/conflicted/annoyed-at-myself-for-feeling-this-way is just because this is yet another side of James that I am not accustomed to seeing.

This whole year, thus far, James has been surprising me every step of the way, with his sincerity and his sweetness and his general graciousness. He has been nothing short of fantastic, keeping up his end of bargains and never leaving me hanging, or angry, or upset. I thought I could get used to it, adopt this James instead of the one that lives in my memories, but now this…

The fact of the matter is that James has changed. He is becoming a man. He comforts prefects who have had an unfaithful partner. And when I see that, the lead-heavy truth of it all hits me again and renders me speechless; because I _don't _know this guy and I'm not even sure why it's bothering me so much.

Things are changing. My life is changing. I just wish it wouldn't go quite so far quite so fast.

**11:30 PM**  
_Status_: Exhausted but exhilarated

Give me a minute, I need to squeal for a little bit, get it out of my system:

_OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD_.

ARGHH!!!

Okay. Much better.

Sorry, it's just…there was a lot of stuff going on this evening and I had to let off some steam. Allow me to try my best to explain what's been going on since I last wrote.

I'll start at the beginning of the whole affair – patrolling.

I know today is Saturday, and therefore it's not my day to patrol, but we had a complication with Mavis and Jonathon, and they couldn't make the patrol. So, of course, James and I had to take over for them – but only this one night.

While we patrolled, James and I were talking (duh) and somewhere in the middle of the patrol, he asked me about the Slug Club.

"So, I understand you're in it?" he asked.

"Yeah, why?"

James shrugged. "I'm friends with Sean and he was complaining about how Slughorn's having another one of his get-togethers around Christmas-time."

"Yes, he is," I confirmed. "He was going to have one around now, but he decided he'd have a really big one in honor of the holiday season. He plans on having it the day before we all leave and hinted we might have live entertainment."

"That sounds exciting," he said with a smirk.

I snorted. "His parties aren't _all _bad," I said reasonably. "They're annoying, certainly, but I could think of worse things to do with my evenings off. Like homework."

"Eurgh, homework," said James, wrinkling his nose. "Can't stand the stuff. I do it, because Remus is my friend and probably appreciates it more than the teachers, but I hate it."

"Same, but Livvy's the Hitler on my end," I said. "She's insane. She loves to get homework done."

"I have never understood that," said James.

"Me neither," I said, "but if there's one thing I hate more than doing homework, it would be doing homework in the morning. I'm more of a night person – I can't make my brain work properly before eleven AM."

James chuckled. "I have to have music on when I do my work," he said. "Otherwise, it's too quiet and I get distracted. Which is the opposite of what you'd think."

"Alice taps her foot when she's working," I said. "It's the most bloody annoying thing in the world. I get terribly distracted when there's noise around me."

"I can't work when I'm cold," James said. "I hate the cold. I really, really hate it. This time of year is when I feel the crappiest, because winter is the _worst _season ever. When I'm old enough to get my own place, I'm moving to South America. Or Africa."

I giggled. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," he said. "I'm not kidding, I hate being cold. My mum used to think I had a phobia of it or something. What would that be called?"

"Coldaphobia?" I suggested.

James chuckled. "Yeah…or iceaphobia."

"Chillaphobia," I said.

"Now I really want to know the scientific name for it," mused James. "Hmmm…what could it be…?"

While he was mulling this one over, we turned a corner and I happened to glance near the ceiling. I could swear I saw something move. My heart taking a leap into my stomach, I automatically came nearer to James, feeling the anxiety constricting my internal organs. James was nonplussed.

"Hey, Lily, are you okay?" he asked.

"I thought I saw something move," I said. "I have bugaphobia. Big time."

"Really?" This interested him. "But you work with them all the time in Potions."

"It's when they're alive that I have a problem," I admitted, remaining close to him as we walked along the corridor.

"For me, it's only certain crawly things," said James very conversationally.

"I hate crawly things." I pushed him gently until we were walking on the side of the corridor, farthest away from the offending wall.

James grinned slightly. "C'mon, Lils, let's get your mind off of this," he said. "What were we talking about? Chilla—"

And it was at this point when I saw the movement again. I screamed aloud and almost shoved James against the wall.

"What was that?" I cried out, my eyes wide with horror.

"Lily, calm down!" he said. "Here, let me go take a look."

He eased me away from his side and approached the wall with his wand out, searching the stones for any sign of life. I shrank back against the opposite wall, my sense of bug-fear far surpassing my sense of pride.

He was about to call it quits and resume the patrol – he was turning around and his mouth was opening to say something – but I saw another movement and I shrieked, "LOOK!"

James whirled around in time to see a tiny creature dart down to the ground where we were standing and it was only now that we saw what it was – a _lizard_.

Lizards. I have a mortal fear of lizards. They are right up there with spiders.

My first instinct: Scream bloody murder.

So obviously, I did that, screamed my lungs out, and I instinctively reached out for James's arm. But what I wasn't prepared for was James doing the same thing I was – screaming and reaching for me.

The two of us were too petrified by the lizard to think – I clung to him, my arms around his neck and face in his shoulder, and he held me like I was a life raft in the middle of a storm against his side. He was the one with his wand out, so he wildly shot Stunning Spells at the ground where the lizard had been, shouting the words as though that was going to help.

The tiny lizard on the ground was about as scared as we were. It kept squirming about, terrified of the red sparks James sent at it, and it fled away from us, back the way we came. James shot a couple of extra Stunners, to be sure, but the lizard was safely away from us and the coast was clear.

"Oh Merlin," I croaked, my voice harsh and breathy thanks to my terribly heavy breathing. "I h-hate lizards."

"They're one of the c-crawly things that scare the living shit out of me," James informed me. His face had gone an ashy white.

"I told you I saw something move," I whispered.

We were quiet then, for what felt like several minutes or hours or something long. But, as we stood there, horrified, I realized quite belatedly that I was clutching James Potter and practically climbing on top of him to avoid the ground.

Utterly embarrassed, I loosened my grip and stood properly on my own two feet. James, realizing this fact more belatedly than me, also let me go, a faint blush on his pale cheeks.

He coughed loudly and said, "Erm…all right then. Wow. You really did see something move over there."

"I told you so," I said faintly.

James sighed and put his hands in his pockets. "So…do you want to call it quits and leave early?"

"Sounds good," I said. "See you later?"

"Sure thing." He nodded.

The two of us turned around and walked back the way we had come. James decided to go to his dormitory and we parted ways, because I wanted to go to the Gryffindor girl's dorm to see Alice and Livvy. When I found out about the surprise patrol and told them, they said to meet me back in the dorm.

My head still full of the lizard incident, I floated upstairs to the dormitory; and when I got in, I was astonished to find both of my friends well and awake, and sitting on Alice's bed, and talking excitedly with lots of hand gesturing and squealing.

For Alice, this isn't exactly uncommon behavior; but for Livvy, it's the farthest thing from normal. This had to be huge.

"Hey girls," I said. "What's going on?"

"Lily! _Finally_!" Livvy turned towards me, her face shining like there was some hidden light behind it turned onto full blast. "Come here, I have to tell you something!"

"What? What's going on?" Her frenzy was practically tangible – I scurried over to the bed and sat with my friends, my curiosity irretrievably aroused.

"You know how Livvy and Russell—" Alice began.

"Oh, Alice, shush – I want to tell her!" said Livvy breathlessly. "I mean, it's all thanks to you, Lils, as always…"

"Wait, so what—?"

"I'm getting to that," interrupted Livvy. She was massively jumpy, which must mean something amazing has happened. I had a pretty good idea of what it was, but I figured I'd let her tell me herself. There's nothing worse than a spoiled surprise.

"Okay," she said. "You know how me and Russell were at that weird crossroads, where we didn't know if we liked each other and what we were going to do about James and Quidditch?"

"Yes," I said slowly.

"And how you told me to go talk to him?"

"Yes," I repeated, just as slowly.

"Well…" Livvy paused dramatically for a split-second before she announced, "I _did _talk to him!"

"And how did that go?" I could feel my excitement growing, but I didn't want to overdo it until Livvy was done, so that she could have the pleasure of dangling this information over my head. Sometimes, you just have to humor your best friend to make her happy. Livvy rarely ever has news like this.

"Well," said Livvy, her voice barely containable, "I tried to think like you. I tried to be bold. I saw him in the evening, in the common room with his friends, and I marched right up to him. He asked me what was up and I said I needed a word, right now."

"Wow, Livs, well done," I said, grinning. "So did you use the script we made together?"

"I was running it through my mind when I was walking up to him," said Livvy, "but when I actually had him alone, standing in front of me in the flesh, I couldn't remember a word of it. So I had to improvise. I knew you and Alice are always telling me to be straightforward and honest, so I asked him right off the bat if he liked me."

"I was so proud when she told me she channeled our advice," added Alice fondly. "Our little Livvy is growing up."

"So what did he say?" I wanted to know.

"He looked confused, like he didn't know how to answer, so I clarified and asked if he fancied me," said Livvy.

"Wow," I said again, thoroughly hooked on her tale now. It was like my own personal soap opera, being narrated to me by one of my best friends. "What'd he say to _that_?"

"To be honest, I can't recall all the specifics, since I was so nervous and couldn't even believe it was happening," said Livvy. "But I mean, we talked and he said he did fancy me – he'd fancied me for a while, imagine that! – and he said the only reason he didn't say anything was because of James and the team. I told him the same went for me, but I wanted to know how he felt. He said he really, really liked me and he had wanted to ask me out for ages…so I told him to do it, ask me out."

"And did he?"

"_Yes_!" exploded Livvy. "We decided we don't give a damn what James says and we're going to see each other, but in private. That way, if James finds out, we can tell him that it didn't affect our game in the least, because he didn't even suspect it. We're only going to be together at night, though, just to be safe. During the day, we aren't supposed to know each other."

I blinked. "Wait, so let me get this straight – you are going to be having a secret night-affair with Russell so that you can both play Quidditch and have a boyfriend?"

"Yes," said Livvy proudly. "Isn't that exciting? I know I'm excited. Russell is…everything to me. I don't want to stay apart. I want to see where we go."

She looked at me expectantly, waiting for my outburst, since I'd clearly been harboring one for a while. But it didn't come. All the joyful, bubbly happiness that came from the idea of Livvy having a boyfriend was quickly extinguished by her resolution to have an underground relationship.

I said, "Livs…I'm happy for you and Russell, I really am, but do you think it's a good idea, keeping it a secret?"

"How else are they supposed to do it, Lily?" asked Alice. "I mean, James isn't going to be pleased about this and Livvy shouldn't have to choose between a boyfriend and a sport. The situation isn't ideal, but at least she gets to keep both in her life."

"And we'll be careful," said Livvy. "We won't be one of those irritating couples who can't keep their hands off each other. We're going to be good about it. We're going to talk and get to know each other and tell jokes and be together. Like I said, I don't know where this is going, but I don't want to let it die. I like him too much."

"I don't agree," I said. "I think you ought to talk to James about Russell, get this sorted out before it becomes a big problem."

"I think it's terribly romantic," said Alice. "She ought to chase it. She wants to love Russell, let her do it, Lils. What d'you think Romeo would've done if Juliet told him to talk to Mr. Capulet?"

"Are you seriously trying to compare James to a mad, grudge-filled Italian noble?" I asked incredulously. "And I don't think Romeo and Juliet is an apt metaphor, seeing as they both _died _and never got to be together."

"It was a passionate love story, which is what Livvy and Russell have," said Alice dismissively. "I like Russell. He's cute."

"Russell's cuteness aside, I think you ought to talk to James," I said. "That way, you can be out in the open and love him properly, instead of skulking around at night."

"Look, Lils, I know James is a nice guy, but he's dead serious about Quidditch," said Livvy. "You haven't seen him on the pitch. He's a slave-driver. If I breathe a word, he's going to go haywire and I'm not in the mood to diffuse that right now."

"Well, you have to tell him _some _time," I said. "And soon. You don't want to tell him when you're in too far with Russell and couldn't imagine a life without him. You don't know how this will end. If you are honest now, maybe he'll let you stay together."

"Lily, I know what I'm doing," said Livvy. "Like Alice said, this isn't ideal, but I'm not about to put my relationship at risk here. I love Quidditch and I love Russell and I'm going to make this work. You won't say anything to James, will you?"

"Of course not," I said. "It's not my secret to tell. You have to do that."

"What will it take for you to understand that I _can't_?" demanded Livvy.

"Livs, this is for your own good," I insisted.

"Let's wait and see how this goes," said Alice. "Maybe she'll tell him, maybe she won't. For now, let's rejoice in the fact that love has come for Livvy in the form of Russell Burgess and we need to tell the world that God exists, because clearly, a miracle has taken place. D'you think we could start our own religious sect?"

"Oh, shove off, Alice," said Livvy, going pink and giving Alice a kick.

"Jerk," I added, grinning and kicking Alice as well.

"It's a statement of fact – this is a miracle!" said Alice, unabashed and utterly unaffected by our kicks. "Livvy is in love! Who knew we'd see the day?"

Livvy blushed. "Well, I mean, I _like _him, but I'm not sure…"

"Enough, Alice," I said, giving her a pat on the shoulder. "But hey, I do have some news that may interest you and your mad matchmaking impulses."

"Did you pin James up against a wall and proclaim your undying love?" asked Alice with interest.

I smirked. "Well, not _exactly_…"

Livvy stared at me as if I had personally amputated my own legs. "You told him you loved him?"

"Of course not," I said briskly.

I went on to tell them about the lizard incident during the patrol and how we both reacted to it. I ended up being quite right – Alice was thoroughly amused that James and I share a fear of lizards and spent the next half hour talking me and Livvy to death about how perfect James and I would be together. But otherwise, I'm back in my dormitory with this diary, getting ready to go to sleep in the next few minutes because it's late and I'm tired.

There's plenty I could write about now – how irritated I am that Livvy is going to be an idiot and keep her relationship with Russell a secret, how irritated I am that Alice insists I am in love with James Potter, how much I don't want to exert or think or feel at the moment – but I figure, it's all better left unspoken. I'm just frustrated and ranting is not going to help a thing. I have a Sunday to sleep through tomorrow.

I'll write again soon when I'm feeling a bit better and it's not practically midnight.

'Night.

--

A/N: Review button is right down there. Go click it and type. I dare you.


	22. I Consider the Merits of Murder

A/N: This chapter's on the shorter side of life, but I figured the last few had been on the longer side of life, so I wasn't too fussed about it.

The next three chapters are going to be in the arena you guys really want. It's going to be fun. Hang in there!

Cheers.  
X

--

November 28

**9:30 AM**  
_Status_: Bored/Flustered

Hey, Alice, I need your help. –L

_What's going on, Lils? –A_

Well…it's kind of a guy crisis. –L

_Are you in love with James yet? –A_

Haha. Nice try. But no, I'm not. Can I explain now? –L

_Of course. –A_

Okay…well Slughorn has a Christmas party in a month and I need a date. I don't want to leave that to the last minute. –L

_Oho! You need a __date__! Why, did he tell you so? –A_

No…but he insinuated it with his annoying winks and big grins. Plus, if I have a date, I spare myself the humiliation of being introduced to every other bachelor in the room. –L

_I could be your date, Lils. –A_

If he's male, I stand a better chance at not being mortified. –L

_True…hmm. I could donate Frank to you for an evening. –A_

D'you think he'd enjoy it? –L

_D'you think anyone with a functioning brain would enjoy it? –A_

True, true…Frank is a viable candidate. Can you think of anyone else, in case he refuses? –L

_You could always take James. He would fall over his feet to go somewhere with you. –A_

We're friends, but not close enough that I can put him through the misery of a Slug Club gathering. And he would _not_, Alice, _gosh_. –L

_I think you should take James. Give the poor guy a chance to get close to you. He obviously wants to. –A_

He's a _**friend**_, Alice. Do you know the meaning of the word, or do I need to explain it to you again? –L

_I love how you keep saying that with so much conviction, as though saying it enough will make it come true. How can you seriously think that after everything, you and James can just remain __friends__? It's not going to happen. So stop being a baby and ask him out. –A_

This is why I have more friends than you, Alice. Can you pass the journal to Livvy? Let me ask her for her opinion. –L

_I'm still part of this conversation. I'm the middle person between you. –A_

I wouldn't expect anything different. Pass this to Livvy and let's see what she says. –L

_Gotcha. –A_

_Alice: Stop obsessing. It is perfectly possible for a boy and a girl with a violent past to become friends later, because they grew up and got over themselves.  
__Lily: Frank is a good option, but as a back-up, I'd say bring Jonathon.__ –O_

You want me to bring _Jonathon_?! Hell no! –L

_Jonathon? But…but…James's name is James. She should bring James. –A_

_Jonathon would be an easy person to bring along. He'd say yes in a heartbeat_. _–O_

_But Lily's not in love with Jonathon. –A_

First rational thing you've said all morning, Alice. I am not in love with Jonathon and leading the poor guy on would be cruel. I am not interested in a relationship with him – or, really, anyone period. –L

_You should be interested in a relationship with James, because he's your one true love and you're going to marry him and have his babies one day, when you get your head out of your arse. I think an invitation to a party is a great way to promote that. –A_

_Take Jonathon. It'll make the poor guy happy. Make sure you clarify you're going as just friends, so that he doesn't get the wrong idea.__ –O_

So my choices are Jonathon or James? Merlin's beard, girls, I'm not going to take either of them! I think I'm going to take Frank. –L

_I hereby revoke my offer to let you borrow Frank. He is going to be spending the evening with me so that you have no choice but to take James. –A_

_If you want to take James, by all means, take him. But if not, take Jonathon. There's a guaranteed date right there._ _–O_

You are both mad. I am asking Frank and that is final. –L

_Not if I can help it. –A_

_You guys are insane.__ –O_

_Thanks, Livvy! –A_

Conversation terminated out of sheer irritation. –L

**10:15 AM**  
_Status_: Ready to kill Alice

After class, when I was sick to death of arguing with my idiotic (and very stubborn) friends, I ditched Alice and Livvy and went to class alone. They ran ahead after me and I took a longer detour, trying to clear my head.

I reached class and saw Frank in the corner, talking to someone. I decided to ask him to the party before Alice could try shoving another James Potter theory down my throat.

Me: Hey, Frank, can I have a quick word?

Frank: Yeah, sure, Lily. What's going on?

Me: Well…there's this Slug Club party I'm supposed to go to, and I want to bring a guy with me, so that Slughorn doesn't try forcing me to meet every single idiot in the room. D'you mind doing me a huge favor and coming along? It won't be too long, I just have to make an appearance.

Frank: Sure. When is it?

Me: December twentieth, the last day of classes.

Frank: The…twentieth?

Me: Yes. Why?

Frank: I'd love to go with you, but the thing is, Alice asked me to spend the evening with her before we leave for the holidays. I'm sorry. She only asked me about a minute ago, otherwise I wouldn't said yes.

Me: …Are you sure you can't slip away for an hour or two?

Frank: Alice expressly asked me to spend the whole evening with her.

Me: Damn that girl…

Frank: I have a feeling you've been played, Lily. I'm really sorry.

Me: Well…it's not your fault. Sorry I asked.

Frank: You know if she hadn't asked me, I would've gone.

Me: I do know that. Excuse me while I go kill her.

Frank: (chuckles) Okay. Good luck with the party, Lily.

Me: Thanks.

I am going to murder that girl. She totally deserves it. How dare she? Now my only viable option has been snatched away from me and I'm left with no date for the damn party. Oh woe is me…I'd better consult Livvy later tonight, when Alice is safely out of the room.

I am going to get a bloody date that isn't James or Jonathon if it's the last thing I do.

**11:25 PM**  
_Status_: Sleepless/bothered

You know that feeling where something happens to you during the day, and then it stays with you, like it's been tacked onto your brain and you can't get it out? And you find yourself dwelling on it more than you'd like, and you're ashamed of it, but you can't help running it through your mind over and over, your gut clenching like I-don't-even-know-what?

Well…right now, that's how I'm feeling. I went right to bed after patrolling, but I've been tossing and turning and now I've finally given up. I need to write, because I have a feeling that's the only way to set myself at peace.

It happened today, during lunch, when I was eating with Alice and Livvy. We were talking over our meal, as usual, but I was extremely stressed – in Herbology today, we had to work with some vicious plant I can't remember the name of and it nearly bit my index finger off. Plus, I also had the date thing to worry about – damn that Alice – as well as the homework I spent most of the evening puzzling over.

It was a lot for a girl to deal with; and when the going gets tough, this girl _eats_.

Livvy and Alice have happily informed me how repulsive it is to watch me stuff my face – and they told me the same thing this afternoon – but their constant refrains of "There are easier ways to deal with your stress, Lily!" only made me want to eat even more.

It's a very destructive cycle – I swear, I have some kind of undiagnosed pathology I need to get checked out – and in the midst of my eating and my friends chastising, James Potter arrived at my table in all his tall, black-messy-hair-that-never-bloody-sits-down glory. He appeared amused by my full plate.

"Hi, Lily," he said, taking a seat beside me. "How goes it?"

"Mm-hmmph." I tried to speak, but I realized quite belatedly how unattractive it looks to talk when your mouth is so bloody full.

"I can wait for an answer to that one," said James with a grin.

Mortified, I reached for my glass of pumpkin juice, seeking to clear my mouth as quickly as possible. It helped. I gave an enormous swallow, coughed, and stuttered, "Sorry. Yeah, I'm fine. You?"

"I'm fine, thanks," he said. "The reason I'm here is because Annie Potent wrote up a new version of the detention slip (he smirked here) and wanted me to run this by you. She told me two weeks ago and I forgot, and now she's all but hounding me, so…what do you think?"

He pulled out a piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it to me, his expression expectant. I accepted it and glanced at the carefully written words, the abnormally straight lines, all done in Annie Potent's perfectionist hand.

To be honest, my stomach was starting to hurt and I couldn't really focus on the detention slip.

"I…erm…it's very…it's nice," I stammered. "I…sorry…"

"You okay?" he asked, his hazel eyes concerned.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine…"

I was feeling a bit funny. Something was churning in my abdominal area, it was bubbling up and making me feel like I was going to burst out of my skin, and I wasn't sure what to do.

"Lily?" This was Livvy, concerned as well. "Lils, what's going on?"

And then – without warning – I released an enormous belch and the pressure instantly subsided.

I blinked a couple of times, feeling infinitely better. But this mild euphoria was skewered the moment I realized I was actually with company who probably found me repulsive, and my happiness morphed seamlessly into severe mortification.

I glanced at my friends and at James, who were holding their breaths and obviously trying not to laugh. The heat rose in my cheeks.

"I'm really sorry about that," I mumbled. "Pumpkin juice…it's terrible stuff…"

"It's okay," said James, who was plainly struggling to keep his tone even. "So, the slip?"

"Right, right," I said, staring at the slip to avoid James's hatefully amused face. "Erm…tell Annie it's lovely. We can run it by McGonagall later…"

"Sounds good," he said. "Thanks, Lily."

"Don't mention it." My cheeks flaming, I turned right back around to my plate and refused to look at him as he walked away. He was probably going and telling his friends all about it, laughing away as he got to the punch line – 'And then she totally _burped_!'

At least, that's what my friends did the moment he was out of earshot.

"Oh, Lily, my love, that was priceless!" Livvy said between coughs of laughter.

"You should've seen your _face _when you realized you had burped!" added Alice, her eyes streaming with tears. "Merlin's beard, Lily, that was fantastic!"

"Oh shove off, will you?" My cheeks were feeling even warmer as I moodily stabbed a potato. "Burping is a part of life…I mean, pumpkin juice is _lethal _that way…it wasn't my fault…oh, would you please _stop bloody laughing at me_?"

"I'm sorry, Lily!" wept Livvy, wiping her eyes. "I really am, darling, but it's too much!"

And so it went on for about five more minutes as my friends got the mirth out of their systems. But for me, it took much longer than five minutes – because I couldn't stop running the incident through my head, replaying it over and over, James's face looming in my mind's eye. It was so damn _embarrassing_ that I can't get over it. I mean, how absolutely unappealing can a girl _get_? _Burping _in front of him? That's a record, even for me.

I wish the situation had gone differently. I wish he had walked in on me telling Alice and Livvy a joke, with them laughing hysterically at _that _instead of me. I wish I hadn't had balloon cheeks when he addressed me. I wish I was not the Head Girl and that Annie Potent could bloody leave the detention slips alone. They were fine as they were.

But, mostly, I wish I hadn't _burped_.

Honestly, I don't want to see James's face again. I would put a Memory Charm on him if it weren't against the rules to do so. I want him to forget all about this afternoon, but somehow, I don't think he will. I mean, why would he? The Head Girl burped loudly in front of him at lunch when he innocently asked her about a detention slip. I'd have trouble forgetting that too. Like I'm having trouble forgetting it now.

As I mentioned before, I have no idea why I'm dwelling so much on this particular incident and what James must think of me. I've had other incidents too – like when my bag fell in the lake and when we saw the lizard, to name only two – but none of them has stuck to me like this. I feel like the most undesirable person in the world right about now. All because I burped during lunch today.

Why, why, why must I have the appetite of a hippopotamus at the best of times?

Note to self: Work harder at the beginning-of-the-year goals I have been neglecting. Not eating quite so much was one of them.

I think I feel sleep coming on. Finally. 'Night…

--

A/N: Review button is right down there. Take a visit!


	23. I Embrace the Christmas Spirit

A/N: December already! Wow. I am astonished. I have a feeling I might actually finish this story. This is a good thing – I am very excited.

This chapter is a little more chit-chat, but the girls go Christmas shopping, which leads to complications. We'll see how that goes.

Cheers, guys. I hope you enjoy this. Your feedback has been awesome thus far!

--

December 11

**Morning Check:**

Blimey, I haven't written about this in ages! Most likely because it's going miserably. I've been trying, I really have, but I can't wake up to save my life. It's too dark outside when I open my eyes, that can be very misleading. Alice and Livvy have made _Levicorpus _into my regular wake-up call – and considering how much Livvy hates that charm, that's saying something.

Eurgh…

**6:30 PM**  
_Status_: Content

Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa la la la la la la la la…'tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la la la la la la…

Believe it or not (and right now, I certainly can't), the Christmas season is pretty much upon us.

December has arrived in full force, bringing with it all the signs of Christmastime: three feet of snow on the grounds, successfully adding two hundred percent more misery to our walk to Herbology; silver knights and ghosts alike wheezing carols around the corridors (hence the one I quoted above, which is stuck in my head); warm fires becoming a commodity (like the one I'm sitting next to at present); hats and scarves and gloves floating around the common room; James complaining that it's too bloody cold out.

And, of course, the most telling sign of all: the tumult of pre-break-cram-time homework.

It's gotten to a point where it's not funny anymore. Pretty much everyone in seventh year is poring over their books in the evenings, sweating to finish one essay so that they can get to another. We're getting a mock N.E.W.T. test in all our classes a couple of days before break, so it's in everybody's best interest to start studying and still keep up with the coursework. It's quite a miserable affair, though.

For me, the extra time I've had to invest in my studies has been treating me very badly – hence the lack of writing. I mean, I have my patrolling in the evenings, as well as the homework, so by the time the weekend comes around, all I can do is sleep.

I swear I'm like a zombie – and James is even worse (if that's possible) because on top of the homework/patrolling deal, he has his Quidditch team to organize. Whenever I'm sitting over my books at two in the morning, I often congratulate myself on not being an athlete.

The lack of free time has been affecting my friends as well. Alice – who has always hated working excessively – is constantly complaining. She gets through things by being peevish, by insisting her life blows, and although it may work for her, it doesn't work for the people she hangs out with. Livvy and I have pretty much banished her to Frank, because we are sick of listening to her whine. Frank is taking it bravely, but I know she's driving him mad as well.

Livvy, in the meantime, has problems of her own to deal with. She has homework to do, extra studying, Quidditch, and then Russell as well. Her secret affair with him has been blossoming quite rapidly, with Livvy disappearing for hours at a time in the evenings to be with him. She is compulsive about the homework thing, so she always finishes it on time, but she has to take away from her sleeping hours to hang out with Russell, which is starting to take its toll on her. She's always tired, always wanting to go to sleep, and she's the only one other than me and James who sleeps entire weekends away.

In short, we're pretty much all messes; and we are only a handful of suffering seventh years who can't wait for vacation to come. Since we're taking the mock exams before we leave, we don't really have too much homework for the break, which is a very welcome reprieve from the obnoxious amount of thinking we've had to do.

However, as seen above, my mood is not exhausted, or stressed, or overwhelmed. I'm _content_. Allow me to explain.

Today is Saturday. Normally, Livvy, Alice, and I would either work our arses off, or we would sleep so that we could work our arses off a bit later. But today, this particular Saturday, we decided to take a well-deserved break, ditch the work, and take advantage of the Hogsmeade weekend by hanging out in the village. A girl's day out, a brief spell of happiness before we dive back into our misery. We figured it was a good investment of our time.

"I just don't know how they expect us to go through this," said Livvy over a large, heaping mug of butterbeer in the blissful warmth of The Three Broomsticks. "I mean, it's impossible to have _this _much work to do. I can't imagine there's any more magic out there we haven't learned already."

"It's like a litmus test," I said reasonably, sipping at my own large, heaping mug of butterbeer. "If we can survive this, we can survive the real world."

"Sorry, Lily, but I don't think we'll ever need to know the fifteen uses of dittany off by heart in our adult lives," said Alice. She was eating cheesecake – incidentally, the same cheesecake Jonathon had bought me on our quasi-date in the autumn. "I am sick of working. I am sick of my life. I need to get drunk on something when I get home."

"Yes, because alcohol is the cure for everything, right?" asked Livvy cattily.

"I probably won't do it, I just said it," dismissed Alice.

"Well, if you're not going to, then why would say it?" Livvy inquired.

"My, my, we're feeling quite pissy today, are we?" Alice arched an eyebrow. "Don't take your anger out on me. That's not a cure either."

"I'm sorry," said Livvy, downing more of her drink. "I'm tired. And I wanted to see Russell tonight, but he's got shit to do."

"Sorry, Livs," I said, yawning. "Merlin, I don't even know how you do it. Work…Quidditch…Russell…it's insane."

"I make time for what matters to me," Livvy said quite severely. "Russell is well worth a few less hours of sleep a night."

"I still don't get why you're in hiding about him," I said. "You ought to talk to James. You really should. It'll make everyone's lives easier."

"Yeah, that's really smart – talk to my insane Quidditch captain while he's up to his eyeballs in crap he doesn't want to do," said Livvy scornfully. "Honestly, Lils, that's like poking a sleeping dragon in the eye when it's got an eye infection – you are going to get burned. Big time. The stress would make him even angrier at me."

"Livvy," said Alice warningly.

"I'm sorry," she said again, suddenly looking very tired and wan. "You know me when I'm irritable."

"Unfortunately, I do," I said. "But today's our day off. Let's be cheerful even if it kills us."

"I'll drink to that," agreed Alice. "Cheers."

We clinked glasses (even though they were already pretty much half empty) and drank a little bit more. Smacking her lips together, Alice put on her best Cheshire Cat smile.

"So, for the rest of the afternoon, I was thinking we could do some Christmas shopping," she informed us. "What do you two say to _that_?"

"I think it's a good idea," I said fairly. "I mean, when else are we going to have time to get it done? I have to get things for my parents, for my sister, for you guys, for some of my other friends…"

"For James," added Alice triumphantly.

"Well, yes, but not as predominantly as that tone suggests," I said. "I'd say let's go for it. Livs?"

"Sure," she said. "But we'll split up. I don't want to know what you're getting me for Christmas until Christmas actually comes."

"Sounds like a plan," said Alice. "Shall we get a move on?"

"Yeah," I said. "I want to be back in time to take a nap before dinner."

We finished up our butterbeers at our table and then we did split up, wandering around the village on our own. I found I rather liked it – the atmosphere in Hogsmeade was very festive, with lights and icicles and cocoa smells and music floating through the cold air. Bundled up in my winter gear, all I really wanted was to stroll these streets, absorb this cheerful feeling like a sponge, keep quiet and enjoy the place I was in. There's some joy that comes with Christmas that I can't explain, and I love it.

However much fun wandering could be, though, I did have to do my shopping. I already had a vague idea of what I wanted to get people, but it was another matter when I stepped into a shop and looked around for something I both liked and could afford.

It did take a while, but I eventually ended up buying Alice a cute chocolate fondue kit for when we have our late-night indulgences, Livvy a set of four extremely gorgeous quills (since she's a study-holic), my mum a bunch of her favorite wizard sweets, my dad a large supply of licorice wands (he loves those), and my sister a packet of pretty pencils (that one took a lot of thinking, because she hates magic).

When I was buying Petunia's pencils, I happened to see a pocket calendar that cracked me up – I ended up getting it for Frank, because he's a friend and he's dreadfully forgetful. I'm sure he'll appreciate the joke. I just hope Alice doesn't get him the same sort of thing.

I also picked up a lot of little treats for my not-so-close-but-still-acquaintances friends, like Adrianna and Sean and Robert. I would distribute them on the last day of classes, whenever I happened to catch them in the corridors.

I considered getting Jonathon something for Christmas, but I figured doing so would only lead him on and I'd end up in an extremely sticky situation. That decision didn't take too long. But another decision most certainly did:

_James_.

I wish there was some sort of handbook that existed someplace, where it spells out what's allowed and what's not; where it tells you if you should give the Head Boy (who used to harass you and claim to be in love with you) a Christmas present or not and gives you a price range if you do; where it gives you suggestions and comforts you and tells you that you are not the only one incapable of thought when it comes to certain people.

But, unfortunately, no such manual is available – at least, not to me – so this afternoon, I was stuck with only my judgment to guide me. And when it comes to James Potter, my judgment is probably not the best one to consult.

Yeah, of course I could've asked Alice and Livvy what I should do. But I already knew what they were going to say. Livvy would insist that I should, because it's the right thing to do; Alice would insist of course, because how else would I tell him I was in love with him? Livvy would say pick up something small and sweet, like a Quidditch trinket; Alice would say pick up something adorable and loving, like a teddy bear or something.

Then Alice and Livvy would argue about whose approach was more correct when it came to me and James, and they would get at each other's throats, and it would get annoying and I would have to intervene and tell them shut up, I'm not getting him anything anymore because you're annoying the bleeding hell out of me. They would complain and argue a little more, but they would drop the subject and I wouldn't get anywhere.

For everyone's sake, I was not about to trigger the argument with Alice and Livvy.

But…should I still get him a gift?

Here were some of the pros and cons I considered when I was trying to make the verdict:

Pros of Getting James a Christmas Present

1. It is the right thing to do – Livvy would approve.  
2. He's a friend of mine now. He's a nice guy. I hang out with him almost as much as I hang out with my regular friends.  
3. He might get me one and it would be terribly embarrassing if I didn't have something for him too.  
4. I dunno…I guess I want to see the look on his face when he sees that I've gotten him a present voluntarily for the first time in seven years. I've always had more fun giving than receiving. Not that I don't enjoy receiving – which I do – but like I said, I dunno, I just want to.

Cons of Getting James a Christmas Present

1. He might take it the wrong way and think like Alice – that I am in love with him. Which I am not.  
2. Although we hang out a lot, it's not really by choice. We've kind of been forced into it. We're friends, and he's made it clear that he trusts me, but I'm not sure how I feel about that quite yet. I don't want to complicate things by giving him a present.  
3. If James doesn't get me a present, it'll be awkward that I gave him one. If he sends me something, I can always dig up a gift; but if it's the other way around, I would feel bad for putting him on the spot.

Eventually, the pros side won out. I decided to buy James a present. But once I made that decision, a whole host of new ones flew at me at top speed and I was left unsteady, unsure.

I know what guys like for Christmas – I have guy friends and a father to consult – but I don't know what _this _guy would like, or how much I ought to spend. I mean, this is a very delicate business. One wrong move and I could ruin everything. I had to be very careful.

My first thought was some sort of little toy. James loves toys. When we were in fifth year, he had this Snitch he couldn't live without – he was always throwing it around and goofing around with it. He's a restless person – he frequently needs something or another to keep his hands busy – and I figured some toy from Zonko's would suffice.

I was on my way to the joke shop when, by happenstance, I caught a glimpse of the Marauders themselves through the window.

I stopped dead in my tracks (incidentally, right by the front door) and reconsidered my situation. I mean, I couldn't walk in there _now_ – the boys were in there already and if they saw me, they would surely ask what my business was, since I'm not exactly joke store material. I could lie, and all, but it would be hard to browse for a Christmas present if the person I was going to give it to was _right bloody there_.

So I figured that Zonko's was out of the picture…which meant I had to figure out something else to give James.

I thought about it for a long time. It was difficult, to be honest, because I wanted something nice but not too nice, affordable but not cheap. I wanted something that showed I thought of him, but not something that appeared like I had given it too much thought. It was a very careful balancing act and I couldn't overstep the line on either side, otherwise the results could be detrimental. For the both of us.

At long last, I found the right gift. I went into Gladrags' and found James a nice pair of very thick woolen socks. He always complained about the cold, so I thought socks would be a nice touch. I spent five minutes choosing exactly which ones to get and I settled upon two pairs, since they were on sale – one white pair with little broomsticks on them and a green pair with light blue stripes on the ankle. I liked the green because I'd noticed of late that he had little green flecks in his eyes and I wanted to bring them out…even if the accents were on his feet. It was the thought that counted anyway, right?

Since I was on a roll, I bought socks for Sirius, Lupin, and Pettigrew as well. I chose thick black ones for Sirius (pun completely intended - I wrote that in his note too), flamboyant orange ones for Lupin (I'm sure he would appreciate the irony) and deep blue ones for Pettigrew. I figured it was rude to buy socks for one Marauder and leave the others out, when I was somewhat-friends with them too. And I liked the ones I bought. They were quite lovely, if I do say so myself.

I left Hogsmeade with Alice and Livvy, pleased with my purchases. They appeared pleased with theirs too. We decided that instead of taking naps before dinner, we would wrap presents – by hand, because it's more fun to do it that way than with magic. Livvy had snowflakes all over her long hair and Alice's nose was bright pink – we thought it would be nice to chill (no pun intended) in the warmth of our dormitory before eating and going back to bed.

Luckily, Livvy had thought to buy plenty of colorful wrapping paper while in the village and we shared it around together. We had a lot of fun, ripping the paper and trying to stick it properly together and swearing when we got paper cuts. We guarded our presents jealously, not wanting the other girls to see what we bought, and it was generally a lot of mayhem, because we're mad and have had precious little to celebrate for the past while. No one has had any fun since Halloween – and for me, it was even before that.

We finished earlier than we thought, so Alice decided to take a bath and Livvy decided to trim the untidy edges of her presents with her wand, because she's insane. I came downstairs to the common room and decided to write, because I haven't done that in a while and I missed it. Plus, with something as major as Christmas shopping – partially for James – I'm sure I want it on the record. I kind of didn't mention it to Alice yet, because I didn't have the energy for a psychoanalysis session about what this could mean for me in the future.

It's about time for dinner, I'd better go. I'll write again when something happens or if I actually have the time. The latter option is pretty unlikely, but I can't promise anything.

Until later, then.

--

A/N: This chapter was mostly narrative summary, I know, but it's nice to change up the style every so often.

Next chapter features a snowball fight…and Lily finally finds a date to Slughorn's party. Exciting! Go on and review and I'll get to work on the next chapter.

Cheers.  
X


	24. I Frolick in the Snow

A/N: This chapter is silly, but in a good way, I think. And I think the development at the end will please you lot muchly. I know it'll definitely excite me! Next chapter shall be quite enjoyable as well, I hope, so have fun! I know I will be.

It doesn't fit exactly lyric-wise, but the lovely acoustic song I listened to while I wrote this was _1, 2, 3, 4 _by_ Plain White T's_. If you can, check it out. It's a very sweet way to spend three and a half minutes.

Cheers, guys. Thanks for all your feedback!  
X

--

December 18

**4:15 PM**  
_Status_: Flustered

Okay…so I said I would write again when something big happened…and I think today counts as something big. Hence being flustered and not really knowing how to start this off. I'm not yet sure if I've made a mistake or if I've done right thing, because my friends have mixed views and so do I, but I'm sure that if I write about it, I can figure something out.

So here's how it happened.

This week has been extremely hectic. Today is Saturday and our last day of classes is on Monday, the twentieth, and we get to leave for home on the twenty-first, which is Tuesday. Because of this, the last of the work that is supposed to prepare us for our mock N.E.W.T. exams on Monday has been piled upon us over the past few days. Even Livvy has had a lot of trouble getting everything done when it should be. That says something about the rest of us.

Now, on the weekend, there has been a massive seventh year coup. Sick to death of this term of working our brains out, we have decided to take advantage of the winter weather outside and play in the snow, visit the village, or curl up by the fire with something mindless for a few hours. I daresay we deserve it.

After sleeping until one in the afternoon today, Livvy, Alice, and I decided to go out in the snow. We put on all our winter gear, happily planning to make snowmen and snow angels, when Livvy asked if she could bring Russell. Alice and I went into a corner and had an intense whispered discussion over this, but we eventually relented and let Russell come along.

When we finally got into the snow with Russell in tow (hey, that rhymed!) and looked around at the white wonderland around us, we were too antsy to make snowmen. Or, at least, Russell and I were. Alice and Livvy were having too much fun lolling their heads in the snow.

"C'mon, guys, stop being prats," said Alice. "Come make a snow angel."

"I don't want to!" I said. "I want to make a snowman. Come help me."

"No," insisted Alice. "Make a snow angel!"

"My snow angels always come out rubbish," I said. "I can't get up and I step on them."

"Me too," chimed in Russell. "Here, I'll help you with your snowman, Lily."

I beamed. "Thanks, Russell!"

"Isn't he wonderful?" swooned Livvy. "But I'm going to have to interrupt you for a quick second – Russell, can you pull me up so I don't ruin my snow angel?"

"Sure, babe." Russell had a lazy smile on his face as he came forward and offered Livvy his hand. She took it and hoisted herself up, but she didn't need to do much work; Russell all but picked her up and swung her out of safety, so that her snow angel wouldn't be touched. Livvy giggled in a most un-Livvy-like way and gave him a hug before releasing him and lending a hand to Alice, so her snow angel wouldn't get ruined either. Russell watched her do so with a dreamy look on his face for a second before turning his attention back to me and our snowman.

The exchange was small and simple, but it touched me inexplicably, stayed with me enough that I'm writing about it now, hours later. It just…it hit me, right then, that Livvy and Russell have something special, something she didn't have with James or George. She practically glows when he touches her, like there's that light behind her face that never gives out, and he's the same way, when she touches him.

I really do think that Livvy is falling hard and fast for Russell Burgess; and it worries me, because she's doing it in a way that could make her love problematical. Livvy can be so fragile, so guarded with her heart, and I would hate to see her crushed when she's shyly giving it away, bit by bit.

They kept up their flirting throughout the afternoon. Russell and I made our snowman while Alice and Livvy made an army of snow angels, and we fancied it so beautiful that we bribed Livvy to go upstairs and get the camera so we could take pictures. This obviously led to a photo-shoot in which we posed with the snowman, giving him our hats and scarves. Russell named him Luis Antonio and refused to hear a word against him.

Once the camera was safely stowed away in Livvy's coat, we went to sit by the lake, around the icy trees, and we stretched out in the fresh, wispy snow, chatting idly.

"We should have more days like this," remarked Livvy, glancing out to the ice rink of the Black Lake appreciatively. "It's like winter has crept up on us without our knowing it."

"I know," said Russell. He was sitting next to Livvy, his arm around her shoulder, his gloved fingers fiddling with her hair. "I've always loved winter at Hogwarts. There's nothing like it."

"I just want a break," said Alice dramatically. "These past couple of weeks have been _murder_."

"I'm looking forward to being at home," I said. "I miss my family. I mean, this is the last time I'll be coming back from Hogwarts for Christmas."

"Blimey, isn't that a scary thought?" said Alice with a shiver I felt was unrelated to the cold. "We're almost out of here. Another half a year and we're _gone_. We're ready to get jobs and live in the real world. Just like that."

"Definitely a scary thought," said Russell with a weary sigh. "I mean, with all that Dark stuff going on, it's not going to be an easy time to find work, get settled."

"Yeah, all those disappearances?" Alice's ears perked up. She's the only one of us who actually keeps up with _The Daily Prophet_. "They're looking into it, and it's not too much of a big thing yet, but I mean, it could turn into a big thing."

"There's always going to be danger," I said reasonably. "I mean, people disappear all the time. That's a part of life."

Russell shrugged. "That's what the _Prophet _keeps saying. I dunno if I believe it, though. Government jargon has never been my strong point."

"But still, there are other things to consider," said Livvy. "I mean, our _careers_."

"Yeah," said Alice with a sigh. "I'm still sort of undecided…I was thinking something in Gringotts, maybe, but Healing is an option."

"I like the idea of being a Healer," I admitted.

"I want to play professional Quidditch," said Livvy. "On the side, I'll do whatever gives me a tide-over income."

"Gringotts was something I was interested in as well," said Russell, "but I'm open to other options. I've always wanted to open a book shop."

"It's all coming up, so fast," I said, my eyes to the sky. Normally, it felt so infinite, so long and stretched out and seamlessly blue; but today it felt like it was crashing down upon me, like a blanket or something, coming and changing my delicate little world irrevocably. I fought to take a long, calm breath.

"Anyway, never mind about that," I continued. "Let's talk about nicer things. Like Christmas."

"I second that one," said Alice quickly. She's almost terrified of the future as I am. "So what do you reckon you're going to have for Christmas dinner?"

"I want a nice big turkey," said Livvy. "Turkey is my favorite meat."

"Mine too!" said Russell, beaming. "And mashed potatoes. Traditional, I know, but very tasty."

"I need Christmas cookies," I said, grinning.

"Oh, Lils, you said you would ease up on the cookie-consumption," said Livvy with a groan.

"Shove off, Livs, it's Christmas," objected Alice. "Let her eat her cookies and she'll start up on those goals again fresh after New Year's."

"_Still_," said Livvy with a pout. "This is when it all matters! You'd better run five miles everyday, if you intend to eat as many Christmas cookies as I think you will."

I pouted right back at her. "No."

"Well, if the cookies are good enough, I'd say go for it," said Russell supportively.

I beamed. "Hey, Livs, I like this one. He's definitely a keeper."

Livvy giggled and went bright pink; and Russell, to his credit, chuckled too. "You know, I'm hoping I am," he said, "because I'm going over to Ollie's place this Christmas to meet her parents and win their approval. I'm supposed to be on my best behavior."

"He's coming over for Christmas," Livvy added, giddy. "I fixed it with my parents yesterday – I've been meaning to tell you lot."

"That sounds great, Livs!" I said, giving her an air-hug from the tree I was sitting by. "Wow, he's going to meet your _parents_? Good luck with that."

Russell laughed. "I'm going to need it."

"Boy, you're in for a wake-up call," said Alice, shaking her head sorrowfully. "I'm going to miss you."

For once, Alice wasn't exaggerating with that statement. Livvy's parents are pretty intense – I've met them a few times over holidays and they kind of scare me. Livvy is a half-blood, so her mother is a witch and her father isn't. Mr. Harris works at some big-shot bank company thing and disappears for fourteen hours a day to do goodness-knows-what for them. Mrs. Harris is pretty much solely responsible for bringing Livvy up and she's _strict_.

She, like Livvy, is compulsive about neatness and tidiness and having everything in the right place at the right time. Her house runs in clockwork. She's a bit severe, although Livvy assured me that was only because they had guests (i.e. me) – otherwise, apparently, she and her mother are fairly close when it's just the two of them.

Judging by her distant behavior when _I_, one of Livvy's best friends, was over, I sincerely did wish Russell luck with Mrs. Harris. He really is one fearless bloke, facing such a fate with a smile on his face.

We talked a little bit more about the Harris family – including Livvy, who is their only child – and it was very light, easy conversation; but, within five minutes, many things happened very quickly.

First, Livvy was telling us a few of the mad family traditions she indulges in at home, and then Russell decided to be an idiot, taking a little snow and sprinkling it over Livvy's head. Livvy shrieked and threw a fistful of snow into Russell's face. Coughing and sputtering, Russell threw some more back into Livvy's face and Alice took the initiative of throwing more snow at Livvy, screaming, "SNOWBALL FIGHT!"

And, because of Russell's eagerness to start pelting anything that moved with snow, a snowball fight was exactly what ensued.

Now, I'm no fun-sapper. I love snowball fights. But this one was beyond _ridiculous_. Within minutes, we were all soaking wet and looking for cover from the merciless tumult of snowballs. Alice targeted Livvy (because teasing Livvy is practically like a job for her), which left me fending for myself against Russell – who, being a Seeker, has excellent control of his arms.

Screaming and shouting, we warred against each other and I could barely see for all the slush freezing on my face and hands, chilling me despite all the protective gear I had worn. It was fun, but it was terrifying, and it was all I could do to keep throwing snow at damn Russell, who seemed to be making a blizzard just for me, laughing maniacally as he did it.

However, the fight only escaladed when, suddenly, I think it was Livvy that didn't aim right and managed to hit an innocent passerby smack in the ear.

He started, surprised, and looked out at us; and to my horror, the innocent passerby was none other than Sirius Black.

"What the hell was that for?" he asked.

"Sorry, Black, that one was an accident," Livvy called back.

Sirius kept his face purposely emotionless. "Really?"

"Yeah," said Livvy. "Sorry."

"Well, in that case…" Sirius stared at us for another second; and then, fast as lightning, gathered up some snow and threw it at Livvy. It hit her square in the face.

"It's _on_!" he shouted.

_Great_, I remember thinking. _Now we're __really__ doomed._

Because Sirius rarely goes places alone – the Marauders had not been far behind him, and when they saw Sirius in the midst of a vicious snowball fight, they obviously had to join in.

I don't remember how long the snowball fight continued. It was just really long and really wet and I got a lot of snow on my eyelashes – which, by the way, is an extraordinarily uncomfortable sensation I would not wish on anybody (with very few exceptions). It only got longer and wetter when the Marauders joined us, because they are seasoned snowball fighting veterans and weren't about to take any mercy on us amateurs.

The only reason the snowball fight didn't go on until the end of the world was because Sirius made the mistake of throwing a snowball at another innocent passerby – and this one was Professor McGonagall.

McGonagall, bless her, is more than accustomed to Sirius's ways, but she still pulled him aside to give him a serious talking to. Then she came back to the rest of us and reprimanded James and I for not taking charge; but she didn't punish us, which was a bit of a miracle.

When she walked off, we decided to call it quits before we hit someone else who had the power to make our lives miserable.

On the way into the castle, Livvy stuck to Russell and Alice walked with Lupin. Pettigrew and Sirius stayed together and that left James to walk with me – which he did.

"Merlin, it's so bloody _cold _out here," he complained. "I hate winter."

"But it's so beautiful," I pointed out. "And you got this fantastic snowball fight out of it."

"I know, and that was fun, but now I'm cold," said James. "I mean, if I could snowball fight out of a bubble, that would be fun…"

"You have to do it yourself for it to be fun," I said. "C'mon, James, stop being a baby. This is fun. If we didn't have winter, we couldn't appreciate summer."

"I suppose…" James sighed. "Why are you always bloody right?"

"Not always," I said, smirking to myself.

"When you're with me, you are," said James.

I smiled. "Aww, that's nice of you."

He shrugged. "Maybe, but I was going for 'very true.'"

I laughed. "It's nice because Alice and Livvy enjoy telling me exactly how _wrong _I am at any given moment."

"Eh, well, we need a positive force in our universes too," said James, grinning.

"What, and you want to be it for me?" I didn't know why, but my tone got shyer and my cheeks got pinker, both for reasons that had nothing to do with the biting cold.

"Maybe," he said cryptically, not looking at me as he said this. Of course, this was mostly because we had just approached the castle steps and he had to watch his way up, but maybe it wasn't…

Oh damn. I was thinking like Alice. I instantly kicked myself (in my head) and knocked myself out of it.

"So where are you off to now?" I asked him.

"Dorm," he said. "I want to peel myself out of this stuff and then go to the Gryffindor common room. You?"

"Dorm as well," I said. "So let's go."

"Sounds good."

The two of us made our way together down the various corridors, stumbling slightly with the extra weight our wet things had. We looked like colorful walking igloos, I think, since I certainly felt like that. We didn't really say anything more after that, so I had plenty of time to think; and think I did.

Because it hit me, as we got on the staircase to go to the second floor, that I _could _take James with me to the Slug Club party.

Earlier today, Alice and Livvy reminded me that I only had two days in which to secure a date. Frank was out of the picture, I wasn't going to ask Jonathon even if my life depended on it…so that left me asking to borrow Russell for an evening (Livvy might kill me) or asking James.

I mean, I really could. I could just spring the invitation up on him, assure him it's only because I'm desperate and I need a friend to go with, and he would probably agree and everything would be fine. We'd go to the damn party, say hello to a few people, eat some food and then leave. My problems would all be over.

Blimey, it sounded so appealing when I put it that way…

I held my tongue until we got to the seventh floor, to the corridor with our dorms. James waved to me as he began to make his way further down the hall to his portrait, leaving me by mine, when I finally called out, "Hey, James?"

He stopped and turned around to face me. "Yes?"

There he was. Right there. His sweetly oval face, the one I knew so well; his eyes so hauntingly hazel, with the almost feminine eyelashes and childishly pink mouth. It was a sight made even more surreal when I remembered that he was wearing a big, fat winter coat, with snow like dandruff in his black hair, while I was looking much the same. I had to swallow really hard and force my brain to be cooperative.

"Erm…you know how Slughorn has that Christmas party on Monday?" I asked.

"Yeah," said James.

"Well…erm…I kind of need someone to go to it with," I said, averting my eyes to the ground. "And I mean, it would help if it was a guy, so that Slughorn wouldn't introduce me to every repulsive single male in the room…so I was wondering if…if maybe…if _you _wanted to go with me, as my savior of the evening, since we're friends and everything?"

It was through a lot of will-power I never knew I had that I managed to look at James's face again as he processed my request.

"So…you're asking me to Slughorn's Christmas party on Monday?" he double-checked.

"Yes," I said, blushing furiously. "I mean, if you don't want to go, that's fine, because anyone with a functioning cerebral cortex wouldn't want to go voluntarily…but the food's quite good and it's something to do…"

"Sure," said James, in a startlingly definite voice. "I'll go with you, Lily."

"You will?" I was a little surprised – I don't mind admitting it.

"Yeah," he said. "Monday night…what time?"

"Seven," I said promptly. "We could…we could meet right here, between the dorms. I swear, I won't put you through more than an hour or so."

"It sounds like fun," he said, so sincerely that I had to search him for signs of jest. "I've never been to one of those parties. I'm excited."

"That makes one of us," I said with a smirk.

"It'll be fun," he promised. "We'll figure something out. What am I supposed to wear?"

"Semi-casual," I said. "Which means no jeans."

"Great." James beamed. "So…I'll see you later, Lily."

"Right," I said. "I'll see you later too."

James gave me another sweet smile and disappeared into his portrait hole, leaving me blushing and sweating in my enormous overcoat. I got inside my portrait hole and took a long, long shower in the bathroom, thinking only of James's face when I asked him to the party as I washed my hair with twice as much shampoo than usual.

Now I'm clean and presentable and writing, but the mortification was one thing from today that I couldn't wash away during my bath.

I just asked _James Potter _to Slughorn's Christmas party, for Merlin's sake.

Wait until Alice and Livvy hear about this one…

--

A/N: Yay! Finally! Development! I can practically _see _you smiling.

Next chapter is the party. Now c'mon, the review button is right down there. Type me something. You know I know you want to.


	25. I Blossom Just a Little Bit

A/N: As some of you have noticed already, I have been writing like a maniac for the past few weeks. This is because in two weeks, I am going to be returning to school – and I'm taking a lot of Honors/AP courses, so I'm not entirely sure I'll be posting everyday. That's why I want to get as much done now as I can, while I still have the time, and then maybe I'll update every two to three days once I go back to school. Just letting you know, because that's on the horizon.

Anyways, this chapter features the day of the Christmas party, so I hope you enjoy this one. I certainly will be.

Cheers!  
X

--

December 20

**6:22 PM**  
_Status_: Nervous

Well…tonight is The Evening of Slughorn's Party, at long, long last. Hooray. Huzzah. God bless the Queen. Why hasn't there been a parade yet?

Eurgh. To be honest, I thought this Monday would never come, after all the trauma I have been enduring since the weekend, when I last wrote.

I probably should have expected that – I mean, how could I ask _James Potter_ to a dance and not expect any kind of repercussions to haunt me afterwards?

The moment I told Alice and Livvy about what I'd done, they completely freaked out. Alice did a little victory dance and then they both sat me down to ask me an avalanche of questions. It was the usual girl-to-girl-to-girl nosiness – how did you do it, when did you do it, _why _did you do it, that sort of thing. I tried to answer their questions the best I could, but there was so much to say and so much they wanted to know – it took us an outrageously long time to discuss it properly.

The end result was basically that Alice did another victory dance and Livvy said I was doing marvelously, I was going to have a wonderful time at Slughorn's party. And I wanted to kill them both.

But they were just the beginning.

Somehow, somewhere, the news that I asked James out leaked and became the subject of gossip yesterday and most of today. Despite the fact that we had ridiculously difficult mock-N.E.W.T. exams to take all day today (which, by the way, were miserable), I had too many people gawking at me between classes and I had to force the truth out of Eleanor Murphy in the bathroom during lunch using my wand and a tube of lipstick (don't ask).

Apparently, what was going around was that I gave James roses and begged him to go to the Christmas dance with me and he made me wait three weeks before saying yes. I don't know who made that up or why they have such an underdeveloped sense of self-preservation, but it wasn't true and I had to keep stoutly informing people of it when they stared after me. That kept some of the tide under control, but I also had to enlist the help of Alice, Livvy, Russell, Frank, and Sirius – Sirius being the most effective because people always listen to what he says. I didn't get a chance to corner James about the controversy, but I assumed he was just as irritated as I was. Why wouldn't he be?

I don't know why people are so meddlesome. I really don't. I mean, James and I are Heads. We're also friends. The prefects can vouch for the fact that we are perfectly civil and friendly and _not romantic _around each other. Anyone who has seen us together can vouch for that, actually (except Alice, who will have to be locked up in a cupboard someday for her horribly biased accounts). Why is it so entertaining to pretend we are anything except what we are? I have never understood that logic.

Alice and Livvy are bad enough. Alice won't stop squealing when she sees my face, insisting that I am the cutest thing she's ever seen and I am completely blind to how much I am in love with James. Livvy, seeing that Alice's approach is not doing anything except darken my mood, ignores the subject altogether and skips off to be with Russell, leaving me alone with my psychotic best friend. Two days of this has been bad enough – I am so glad I didn't listen to Alice and ask him earlier. I don't think I could take the rumor mill, which is far too convoluted at Hogwarts.

Getting ready tonight was another challenge in itself. I had selected a white skirt and green sweater (my hair could suffice for the red necessary for the season) for the party, but Alice and Livvy insisted it was not good enough. Alice raided my clothes to find something suitable, but insisted I had nothing. Meanwhile, Livvy decided that leaving my hair down was not a good idea at all, and insisted on doing it for me.

They basically expected me to be their little dress-up doll, but I wasn't going to have it.

I let Livvy put clips in my hair, and straighten it a little bit with Hair Potion, but I didn't let her do more than that.

I let Alice force me into my sole tube top – which happened to be green – but I kept my white skirt (which was at least somewhat modest) and made her live with it.

And I made sure I was still wearing a strapless bra, because I wasn't about to walk into Slughorn's without one.

And I wore my gray sweater on top, because it was still winter and I was cold.

Then I pronounced myself ready.

Alice thought the sweater was tacky, but she allowed that the rest of it looked fine. Livvy said I looked lovely, but she was on her way out to the library to do homework, so I'm not sure she had the opportunity to fully drink in the outfit. Either way, though, I banished Alice from my dormitory and sat down here with my diary. I wanted to finish early so that I could write.

The clock says it's about ten to seven now. I'm due to meet James outside the portrait hole at seven so we can go to the party. However, I'm not sure if that means I'm supposed to be there on time or if that'll make me look over-eager and I should wait an extra five minutes. With these things, you can never tell, and Alice specifically told me before she left that I ought to wait an extra five minutes. I always did that for my dates and it seemed to work.

But the trouble is, I'm not sure if James expects me to be punctual, or if he's going to be punctual himself. These are not things you ask the other person – you just do them and hope for the best. Is James the punctual type? Should've asked Livvy that before she left. She would know this.

I think I'm going to be five minutes late. That's a good cushion, a way to say that you're relaxed about this whole thing and it's no big deal. Because it isn't. It really, really isn't. It's just a Christmas party. I mean, I don't care. I _don't_.

Or, okay, fine, I do. But if I say that I don't, maybe I'll bloody stop quivering when I glance at my portrait hole. Right about now, I'm desperate for anything.

I've already done all of my usual time-killers. I've brushed my teeth twice and used mouthwash. I've fussed over the fit of my clothes and changed shoes three times. I've straightened the cushions on my bed and cleaned my bathroom counter and rearranged all my various personal hygiene items in four different ways. But I'm still ready and waiting and glancing obsessively at my watch every couple of seconds, because it's almost time to go and I'm still having doubts about taking James along to this party.

I've got a feeling I'm not going to be nervous at all when I get out, and that I'm going to pretend like nothing ever vexed me about this evening, and that I'm going to feel stupid for stressing out, but for now, I am stressing and there is nothing anyone can tell me to make me feel better.

It is seven o'clock exactly now, according to my watch.

You know what? Screw it. Screw it all. I have been stressing out enough and making myself into a total fool over something that really shouldn't affect me as it is, so I am going to go out there – on time – and face this party with James the way a properly mature seventeen-year-old ought to.

Here I go. Wish me luck. I shall write again when I come back.

**8:30 PM**  
_Status_: Terribly confused

Oh…my…_gosh_.

_What _a night.

I kind of don't even know where to begin. It's all such a warm, stuffy whirlwind to me, but I suppose I should start at the very beginning, so I don't leave anything out. I don't _want _to leave anything out.

So…I see that I already wrote about the pre-party preparations, which involved some critical fashion choices with Alice and Livvy. Well, once all that was done and the clock struck seven, I did go out to wait for James – he wasn't there yet and arrived just within in the five minute mark.

But when he arrived, I actually started a little.

I mean, on the surface, he looked fine. He was wearing a collared button-down shirt – white with green stripes – and nice, off-white corduroys. He had tried valiantly to comb his hair (it didn't work, but he got points for effort) and his shoes did not have any mud stains on them, which was a plus. He actually looked quite nice.

However, he was also wearing a bright red clown-looking nose on top of his own and enormously obnoxious moose ears on his head, with a bright, impish smile to match.

"Hi!" he said, looking me up and down approvingly. "You look great."

"Thanks," I said. "And you would too…if you didn't have that tomato on your nose and the moose ears."

He looked mightily offended by this. "They're _reindeer _ears," he corrected me. "And a _Rudolph _nose. Aren't they great? Sirius bought them and let me borrow them for the party."

I blinked a couple of times. "Erm…how am I supposed to let you walk with me in public when you look like _that_?"

James broke into an enormous grin that mildly terrified me. "Funny you should ask…"

I was about to say something – question him, call him insane, something like that – when, all of a sudden, James produced an identical nose and ear piece from behind his back. Rendered speechless, I watched as he held them out to me with a smile I had grown to be quite weary of.

"Here," he said. "We can go as twins!"

"You've got to be joking."

The hat and ears were funny, of course, but not when I was the one who had to wear them, particularly in front of other people.

"Of course I'm not!" James said delightedly. "C'mon, wear them. We'll be the most stylish duo in the whole room! Sluggy will love 'em!"

"James, please, I'm not wearing those." Now I was smiling too, and fighting back a laugh. "Please. I'm going to see a lot of those people again."

"You're going to look great," James assured me. "C'mere, let's try this nose on first…"

He began to come closer to me, holding the red nose out like a weapon. Giggling a little, I retreated towards the wall, uncertain. But he kept coming, this foolish smile still plastered on his face, the nose coming closer and closer; and eventually, he had me backed up against the wall and trapped me inside his Quidditch-toned arms.

"C'mon, Lily!" he wheedled.

"No!" I insisted, now red in the face (as ever). "I'll look silly!"

"That's the point," he said. "C'mon. You'll look lovely."

He was so close to me. That was the only thing I could take in, other than that stupid nose lingering by my nostrils. His arms surrounded me, his body barred me from any kind of escape route, his face was in mine. I could feel him breathing on me; I could smell his musky cologne and something sharply sweet (laundry soap is the only comparison that comes anywhere close) that was uniquely his; I could see every single green fleck in his hazel eyes as they stared beseechingly at me.

I wasn't sure about him, but I certainly wasn't comfortable with him invading my personal space bubble that completely; so for that reason, and that reason _alone_, I relented and said, "Fine. Give me the damn nose. I'll wear it."

"Hooray!" Grinning away, he presented me with the bright red nose and, giggling in spite of myself, I stuck it onto my nose. It was kind of scratchy and hard to breathe in, but it made him smile so wide I'm sure it had to hurt, so I left it on.

Next, he handed me the ears. I opened my mouth to protest, but this time, he pouted like a puppy dog and I contended myself with a playful punch into his chest and I plopped it on my head. He beamed again and beheld me fondly, as though I was a particularly scrumptious piece of turkey or something.

"You know, this is much better," he said. "We need a picture of this."

"What, so that we can have physical evidence that can be used for blackmail?" I asked, as we began to walk down the corridor together.

"No one's going to blackmail you," he said dismissively.

"I wouldn't put it past Alice," I informed him. "She is forever on a search for dirt on me. It comes in handy when she wants me to help her with her homework or get me to buy her candy."

"How sweet of her," he remarked.

"That's Alice," I said. "Always the compassionate one."

We hadn't walked more than a few feet when someone turned the corner and caught a full-on view of us. What a sight we must have looked, with those ears and that bloody nose. She – it was the infamous Sarah Emerson, who had gone out with Amos Diggory in the beginning of the year – raised an eyebrow at us.

"Going somewhere?" she inquired.

"Slughorn's having a Christmas party," said James, before I could speak. "Lily and I are going as friends."

I smiled helpfully, mentally allowing him to do all the talking.

"Right," said Sarah. "Okay. Well…erm…have fun."

"We shall," said James brightly. "Have a good night, Sarah!"

Sarah gave him an acknowledging nod (it was actually kind of cold and mmhm-I-have-seen-you-lower-subject-you-may-walk-away-now, if you get my drift) and continued on her way. My heart sank with her as she turned another corner. Sarah is a notorious gossip – everyone is going to know about this within half an hour, I have absolutely no doubt of it.

I debated whether or not to groan and complain about Sarah Emerson to James, but I ended up opening a different conversation instead.

"Are you on first-name terms with everybody in this school?" I asked.

James shrugged. "Only those in my acquaintance."

"So, everybody in this school?"

James snickered. "I guess." He paused, and then said, "I think the whole last name thing is a bit of a waste of time. It's kind of rude, actually. I prefer talking to people normally because that lets them know you care. But some people just like calling me Potter. Not sure what to say to that."

"That's interesting," I said. "I mean, to me, it doesn't really mean much. I get called Evans all the time and it doesn't bother me."

"It bothers me," said James. "I guess it's a preference thing. For me, though, I like being personal with people."

"That's a good thing," I said.

"I'd like to think it is." He shot me a dazzlingly naughty smile.

I chuckled. "So…are you honestly excited for this party?"

"Yeah," he said. "It's a new experience. I mean, for you, it's old hat, because old Sluggy adores you; but for me, it's a first time thing. I want to make it count. That's why I brought our festive gear."

"There's really nothing to be excited about," I said. "I mean, I think he's getting live entertainment, and the food's good, but otherwise it's fairly boring."

"That's because you're a girl and all you want to do is talk," said James, "which you do all the time. But for others of us, food and entertainment are all that matter." He considered a moment, then said, "Let's make a bet."

"I don't bet," I said. "Too many bad experiences with Alice. She's put both me and Livvy off of it."

"Yeah, but I'm not Alice," said James dismissively. "C'mon now. I bet you…I bet you five Galleons that you are going to have fun tonight when you go with me."

"Ten Galleons?" I was surprised. "You'd bet that much?"

"Yeah," he said. "You're going to enjoy yourself – I could use the extra money for something useful."

I mulled this one over and figured it couldn't hurt. After all, he was right – he wasn't Alice. What did I have to lose besides a bit of money? I nodded.

"Sure," I said. "Ten Galleons. It's a deal."

We shook on it; and before we knew it, we were into the right corridor and we entered Slughorn's office for the party.

Actually, Slughorn had done a rather nice job with the office for this occasion. He had it decorated very festively. He had hung up a few sprigs of mistletoe (this year, the teachers opted not to put it up in the main corridors after a nasty incident last year where a girl hexed a guy's mouth off for approaching her – it was odd to see them here) and plenty of holly and tinsel. Soft Christmas music was playing from somewhere and there were red and green lights glowing softly from various corners, casting a weird sort of surreal-ness on the room…I can't exactly explain it, but it was kind of magical in a spine-tingling way, like there was possibility in this tiny little room for something noteworthy to happen.

Already, this was different from any party I've ever been to in Slughorn's familiar office.

Swallowing slightly, I locked my jaw and said, "So what are you waiting for, Bozo? Let's go!"

"You're going to have to lay off on clown jokes while we're here," he said. "I'm _Rudolph_."

I rolled my eyes. "Do you want your money? Let me have my fun."

"When I said you were going to have fun, I meant you would enjoy the party, not insulting me," he said. "You get kicks out of that all the time. It doesn't count."

I smirked; and I was about to say something else, but Slughorn suddenly appeared, waddling through the crowd with an enormous smile on his face.

"Miss Evans, Mr. Potter!" he said kind of loudly, making some people turn around and stare. "What a lovely surprise to see you both here! The Heads coming to my little gathering together, eh?"

"Hello, Professor," we said at the same time. Immediately, I blushed; but luckily, thanks to the lighting, I don't think anyone could tell.

"This looks really nice," I offered honestly. "I love the decorations."

"Thank you," said Slughorn genially. "Now go on, help yourselves – refreshments are in the back."

And he passed on. Just like that. No preferential treatment, no introducing me to strange men that I would never like. He moved on. The plan worked! My date idea worked! My mood lifted considerably as James and I ambled over to the food table – I even forgot how ridiculous we probably looked in our ears and nose – and I had an éclair with particular joy.

James picked up on this.

"So…you seem pretty _happy _right now, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes, because my idea worked," I said enthusiastically. "Slughorn didn't introduce me to people tonight, because I brought a proper date!"

"So you've figured out the secret." He grinned. "That's a good thing. I'm glad to have helped."

"Thank you," I said sincerely. "You're a real life saver. I really didn't have anyone to go with."

"You could've gone with…Frank," he suggested.

I shook my head. "He had plans with Alice." I decided to omit the part where she made those plans specifically to make my life difficult.

"Hmmm…you could've taken Sean or Robert," he said.

"They always go with Adrianna," I reminded him. "Remember they're both infatuated with her? If I took one, the other would have an advantage."

"Right." He considered. "Wow. I feel your pain. What about…Amos Diggory would probably say yes?"

"As far as I know, he's still going out with Sarah Emerson, who would murder me if I even looked at Amos," I said.

"No, he broke up with Sarah," said James. "He's single right now."

"I could bet you ten more Galleons that Sarah doesn't think so," I pointed out.

"That's true too." He pulled on a thinking face. "Merlin's beard, no wonder you asked me. You really have no options!" Then he paused, an evil look on his face. "Hey…you could've always asked Jonathon."

I had absolutely no qualms about kicking him heartily when he said that, making him laugh. "Don't even joke like that," I thundered. "Livvy has already been on my arse about him and I refuse to lead him on when I am so obviously not interested."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he said, not looking the least bit repentant with his jack-o-lantern grin.

"So now here we are," I said. "I asked you."

"I have a feeling I should be a little offended, since I was used so overtly," he mused. "I mean, you only took me because you had no other option, not because you liked me…"

"Don't be offended," I said, a chill in my chest at these words. "Honestly, don't be. If I didn't want to go with you, I wouldn't have – I'd have taken my chances coming here and letting Slughorn have his way, admitting defeat."

"Seriously?" This interested him. "So you really do want to be some place with me?"

"Yes," I said honestly.

This made him smile again, but it was a different sort of smile – a thoughtful one, a sweet one. Somewhere in me, I felt pleased that I was the one who had caused it.

Softly, I continued, "This year…things have been really changed between us. In good ways. I…I like being with you. I feel like…like we're finally friends now."

Right now, at this moment, as I'm writing, I don't remember what possessed me to confess this to him. I really don't know. I guess it was a combination of things: the ridiculousness of his Rudolph nose contrasted with the muted enigma of his hazel eyes; the ambiguous lighting, casting so many shadows on the angles of his admittedly well-crafted face; the way he was beholding me so carefully and the conversation we had been having; the buzzing air current in the room.

I felt so _near _to him then; like all the people around us had fallen away and left only us two, standing by the table, with eyes only for the other. It was almost precarious, how close we were; like we weren't the people we thought we were.

It's so hard to write out in these mere words. There was practically _electricity _between us. We went from playful banter to something…something that ran deeper than this Christmas party.

We lingered for a couple of seconds, staring at each other and waiting for someone to say something, for some sign to come and tell us what to do. But none came. We weren't a storybook prince and princess – we were just Lily and James wearing funny reindeer ears.

Since he didn't have a response to my embarrassingly intimate remarks, I was the first to clear my throat and reach for another éclair. I asked, "D'you want a drink?"

The intensity never left him as he said, "Sure. I'll get it. Would you like one too?"

"Yes, please."

He stepped away from me and went to the table to fill two cups, leaving me alone to breathe and wonder what had just happened. I waited impatiently for him to return – maybe he would say something and continue the conversation – but no, when he returned, he brought other people with him and we weren't alone anymore.

Most of the remainder of the party was spent like that, mingling and socializing. James and I both knew plenty of people here and a lot of them had brought dates, so we said hello and chit-chatted about the traumas of school, along with plans for the holidays. It was nice, and this was what I always did when I was at a Slughorn party anyway, but I felt particularly conscious of what I was doing because James was right next to me, warm and solid and _James_, listening to what I said and telling me things.

I smiled a lot and said what people wanted to hear, but I wasn't really having much fun. I discovered, to my dismay, that the most interesting part of the evening was when I was with James on his own. Of course, I did enjoy talking to people I didn't often see because I was so deeply entrenched in my books, but I mean, it's like going to a big family function – you smile a lot and be who they want you to be, but you don't really have a blast doing it.

After almost an hour of this, I had had enough. When James and I were about to cross the office to say hello to someone else James knew, I finally pulled him back by his arm and said, "I'm kind of tired of this. Can we go?"

"Merlin, I thought you'd never ask," he responded with relief. "C'mon. Let's get out of here."

Grinning, I gripped his hand and the two of us sidled out of the office, saying our good-byes but hurrying away quickly before we could get entangled in any more conversation. By the time we were out the door, at last, the hilarity of the situation returned to me and I couldn't stop giggling. I guess James just did that to me.

"Merlin's beard, I thought you would never finish!" I said.

"Me? I was dying inside after the first few hello's – it was you who looked like you were having fun and I desperately wanted my money," he countered. "So was I right? Did you have fun?"

"Not really," I admitted. "It was kind of terrible."

James sighed. "Unfortunately, you were right. The party was nothing to be excited about. I didn't enjoy much of it either."

"But I did have a little bit of fun, when we were getting in and people were staring at our beautiful accessories," I added, to make him feel a bit better. "And the éclairs were excellent."

"I could tell – you'd had about eight of them," said James with a snort.

"You have yet to get accustomed to my eating habits," I said. "Don't worry. Livvy would share your disgust."

"So…I think it's fair to give me five Galleons," he said. "I mean, you did have a _little _bit of fun going with me, didn't you?"

Because I didn't want to admit how much so, I considered a moment and said, "Yeah, I suppose so."

"Great." James beamed. "Five Galleons to me, please. You can give them to me after we come back from break."

"Sounds good," I said. "Just remind me."

"Can do, madam," he chirped, his face alight with cheerfulness as we made our way up another staircase, leading up to our dormitory.

We walked in silence for a couple of minutes as we approached the corridor with our portraits in it. It was a dear little corridor, tucked away where nobody really went, and I had grown to kind of love it, in a homey sort of way. The two of us stopped in front of my portrait, because it came first. I felt like I was in a teen romance film and my "date" was taking me home and standing awkwardly on my doorstep.

I smiled at him fondly and said to him genuinely, "Thank you for coming with me, James. I did have more fun than I would've had if you didn't go."

He seemed pleased to hear it. "You're welcome, Lily. And, even though you really didn't have a choice, thank you for inviting me along. Now I will never want to go to a Slug Club party for as long as I live."

I chuckled. "Told you so."

"Good night," he said sweetly. "I'll see you tomorrow so we can say good-bye properly."

"Sounds good," I said. "Good night. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

His hand looked like it wanted to cross the distance between us and make contact with mine, but it remained steadfastly by his side, straying nowhere.

I turned to my portrait, about to say my password and retire for the evening (I had already informed Alice and Livvy I would bring them up to date on the train tomorrow), when all of a sudden, James said, "Lily?"

I whirled around. "Yes?"

Despite the nose and ears still making him look like a fool, his eyes were deadly serious as he said, "Things _have _changed between us this year, but I love being your friend. I really, really do."

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks like magma rises in a volcano. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, some shade of thank you, or I like you, or I'm happy to be with you; but before I could, he had turned around and was walking to his own portrait. He seriously intended on leaving me hanging like that, after everything we had gone through tonight.

His words were so simple. Did he mean exactly what he said, or was there some secret message hidden in there that I have to find a decoder ring for? Merlin's beard, I never, ever know these things. Why did I bring our relationship to this uncomfortable place? It was going so well. Why did I give him clearance to talk to me like that? Why was this so hard? Why did I feel so _wrong _every time he looked at me that way? It was impossible for me to say.

I came into my portrait hole after he left, deciding he was not worth pursuing tonight because I wouldn't know what to say, and I came to this diary, the stain of the past couple of minutes darkening all the lightness of the past hour.

The possibilities are endless. Honest to goodness, they are. He could've meant anything, anything at all, and I am afraid to presume anything, because making a mistake with James Potter, after all this time, is detrimental. I don't want to ruin what we've got by making stupid conjectures that are too far from the truth. We walk a fine line, we really do, and stepping on either side could hurt one or both of us irrevocably. I don't want to be the one to make that mistake.

But, as I was writing here and replaying the night's events in my mind's eye, I do have one theory I want to make note of in the safety of my private diary…

When James and I were standing at the food table together, and I told him I liked being with him, and he stared at me and I got that funny feeling in my tummy and the room seemed to close in on us…I think the buzz was something very simple:

Potential.

But what this potential was for, I am afraid to know; because sometimes, the truth is even scarier than the products of my over-active imagination. Maybe it was a good thing I interrupted the moment we were having. These are dangerous places we could be edging towards.

My head is too full for writing at the moment. At present, I am going to relish a full night's sleep after so long, and I am going to bed. I will leave the theorizing to Alice and Livvy on the train tomorrow. They'll have fun with it, I'm sure.

Good night. I shall write again once my best friends have finished with me…which might take a while.

--

A/N: I had a very joyful morning writing this and I sincerely hope you enjoyed this. Please do review – I would love to know how the scene felt to you!


	26. I Endure Endless Speculation

A/N: The site was down all day yesterday, as well as most of the afternoon today, so I had to wait a bit longer to post. Sorry about that.

The duration of the Christmas break – which features LJ developments, by the way – lasts for four chapters, including this one. I hope you enjoy it. There's some considerable emotion and nostalgia awaiting you a bit later.

Cheers, guys.  
X

--

December 21

**6:45 PM**  
_Status_: Thoughtful

It's pretty much black outside right now, because of our winter weather, and the lights in the train have come on, letting muted golden light shine upon our heads in our small compartments. Alice, Livvy, and I are sharing one and they are both napping – Livvy curled up on one bench with Alice sitting next to me, her head on my shoulder, her light snoring like a foghorn in my ears. Good thing, too, because they have been talking my ear off all afternoon and I'm happy to have them leave me alone for a bit.

We're still in the countryside right now, watching the snow-covered trees and grounds – way too much white for my comfort – pass us by, glowing kind of eerily in the dark, but I think we're approaching town soon enough. I've changed into regular clothes and avoided the "Upper Management" cart, as I fondly call it, like the plague, because I wanted to be with my friends. And now I'm just kind of thinking on paper, my day playing through my head like a film or something. I suppose I ought to write about it, considering…well…everything.

Today has seriously been something of a blur. I overslept this morning by about two hours; and when Alice and Livvy finally pushed me to the floor and all but pummeled my arse, I discovered I only had an hour to get ready and get out to the train.

And I am not known for being quick when it comes to such matters.

In a mad rush, I packed all my stuff by magic and double-checked the room to make sure I had everything I needed. Then I threw on my jeans, my lucky socks (just in case) and a sweater, brushing my teeth and hair and popping in a piece of gum, to make sure I didn't stink.

Livvy (who was, of course, done two hours ago) supervised as I dragged my trunk out and tried to control my hair, which had decided to frizz up like the bride of Frankenstein last night. She luckily had a little Hair Potion left over from the previous night, and that kept it down for a little while, but my hair is a bitch, I swear it. Whenever I need it to cooperate with me, it gets rebellious. Must be the red. People always say redheads have rebellious hair.

To my great relief, I made it to the train in the nick of time. Alice nearly missed the train because she forgot her hair brush – her prized possession – inside, but she managed to wrangle her way in and we were okay, only a little worse for the wear.

Then the real trauma of the afternoon began.

Alice and Livvy demanded to know _exactly_, with every detail I could recall, how the party went with James. I started to tell them normally, but I realized that I couldn't really remember everything perfectly like I could right after I experienced it, so I pulled this diary out and kind of edited around some of the thoughts I had put down. I wanted them to know the truth, but I didn't exactly want them to know how I felt about that truth. It's for self-preservation purposes, I swear – Alice would eat me alive if I gave her _every_thing.

However, they inferred whatever else they needed to know; and discussion quickly ensued once I had wrapped up my tale.

"Oh…my…gosh," was Alice's first coherent remark when I was through. "Just…oh…my…gosh."

"Kind of amazing, I know," I said. "But I mean, I don't know where this could go from this point…I'm not sure what's going on…"

"It pains me to say this," said Livvy, her tone murky. "You have absolutely no idea how much. But it has to be said."

She took a deep breath and admitted, "For once, Alice is right. I am a believer now. I think that James Potter is still in love with you and you are in love with him and you need to do something about it."

"Really?" For a second, Alice forgot all about James and gaped at Livvy as though she had sprouted a pair of claws out of her head. "Honestly? You're a believer?"

"Yes," said Livvy solemnly. "I am a believer."

"Oh, Livs!" Alice clapped her hands with delight. "Finally, you see the light! Thank Merlin I have at least one sane best friend."

She gave Livvy another fond look and stared back at me. Her expression wasn't quite so fond anymore.

"Lily, you are so _dense_," she groaned. "You are _in love with James _and he is _in love with you _and you are _so bloody frustrating_! Why can't you see it? Everyone else can!"

I sighed testily. "That's because you see what you _want _to see. You don't see what's actually there."

"The same is true for you too!" wailed Alice.

"This one's hard to dispute, Lils," Livvy said, shrugging apologetically, her eyes pitying. "I mean…really. He gave you The Look. He flirted with you. He went to the party with you. He's played with you and bantered with you and taken the time to get to know you. He told you he loved being your friend. That doesn't suggest anything platonic to me, Lily."

"How does it _not_?" I argued irritably. "He said he loved being my _friend_. He didn't say he loved _me_. That's so different – I mean, it's possible that this is where he wants to be with me, at this comfortable safe point where we are close without being too close. This…this is what we were aiming for! He's not about to fall in love with me. Why would he? He has no reason to. He has no opportunity to."

"Don't talk rubbish," said Alice. "You know, Lils, I think that sometimes, you forget the effect you have on people."

"What effect?" I asked incredulously.

"Well, you're approachable, for one thing, very easy to talk to," said Livvy. "You're intelligent. You are a leader and you act like you've got everything under control. You're the bleeding Head Girl, out of everyone in seventh year. I'd say that sounds very impressive."

"And it doesn't hurt that you're hot," added Alice.

"You yourself have complained copiously about my lack of breasts and dress sense," I reminded her.

"So maybe you don't have boobs, but you're still hot," said Alice. "Your eyes are pretty and you know your hair is practically a tease in itself. And you have a cute smile. And if we dress you, you tend to look less fashionably-challenged."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence," I said dryly.

"Seriously though," insisted Alice. "Lily, you are funny and bright and quirky and downright _fanciable_. On the surface, you are the It Girl. You have everything."

"But I _don't_—" I was actually kind of offended by this allegation. Me? An It Girl? I couldn't imagine such a world.

"_We _know differently, of course," said Livvy, gesturing to herself and Alice. "We know you are incapable of waking up in the morning, that you eat like a hog when you're stressed out, that you are the world's biggest procrastinator and commitment/responsibility scare the hell out of you. We know you're basically a screwball at heart and we adore you for it. But you have to realize…people are still going to notice that you are fanciable. And James is a guy – he's bound to notice it too. And in the past, he definitely has."

"And this year, with you guys being friends at all, there are a lot of lines that are suddenly very easy to blur," Alice said. "It's hard for boys and girls to stay friends, because at some point or another, you always wonder what would happen if the two of you were together."

"That's not going to happen to me and James," I said firmly. "I like him, but not that way. Never that way."

My stomach twisted uncomfortably at my words. Not sure why, but I ignored it, preferring to stare down my best friends, try to make them see sense. But they weren't really seeing it.

"Look, I know it's not easy to swallow, Lils, but I think there are still some feelings between you that you guys need to address," said Livvy. "After Christmas, you need to talk to him. Like, really_ talk_ to him."

"You guys are a classic love story," Alice assured me. "Boy meets girl, girl hates boy, boy loves girl, girl eventually gets her head out of her arse and loves boy back. Easy as pie."

I rolled my eyes. "It's not that easy, Alice."

"Of course it isn't," said Livvy, shooting Alice a look. "But I mean, you have to give it a shot. You have to try. You can't tell me you don't feel _any_thing, can you?"

I considered telling her, at that moment, as she watched me expectantly. I really did. I considered telling her about the buzz I felt when he looked at me; about how much we'd laughed; about how I felt like blushing and giggling like a complete fop sometimes, when I returned to my dormitory after spending time with him.

But then I looked at Alice and I chickened out. I couldn't tell them how I felt. Besides, it wasn't that big of a deal anyway, and they would make it into one. I didn't want that. I didn't want to be picked apart, like I was someone dense and moronic and incapable of figuring out how she feels. If, in the highly unlikely event that something _does _happen between us, I want it to be on my own accord, not that of my friends.

So I said, "No. I don't."

"Of course you do," said Alice. "You're just not telling us."

I hated it when she did that – her almost-psychic brilliance is quite irksome, because it is often paired with her almost-trollish obtuseness. I rolled my eyes at her.

"I mean, yeah, he makes me smile, but no, I don't feel what you think I feel," I said.

"But he still might," pointed out Alice. "Do you realize that? Do you realize that he could have an enormous crush on you still, after all this time, and you are going to break his heart again when you tell him you 'don't feel anything' when he's with you?"

"You've always been a romantic," I told her. "That doesn't mean James is one too."

"It's not about being a bloody romantic!" flared up Alice, getting astonishingly passionate about her cause. "It's about you two – how you feel and how you are pretending like nothing is happening when it really is!"

"Calm down, Alice," said Livvy.

"I will _not_!" pouted Alice like a five-year-old child. "I mean, _honestly_, Livvy! Even you know enough to snap up a guy when you know you like him. Lily has been avoiding James for _years_!"

"Not everyone is the same that way," said Livvy steadily, happily stepping up on my behalf. "Now, I agreed with you on the fact that there are emotions that need to be discussed, but I don't agree with you on the idea that Lily is a dolt. She knows how she feels better than you do and she's a big girl now. If she wants James, she'll go for him."

At that moment, I felt more grateful to Livvy than I ever had. I smiled slightly at her as Alice pondered whether or not to let this go yet. She caught my eye and smiled back, the knowledge that we were on the same side (kind of) passing wordlessly between us.

A few seconds later, Alice calmed down a little, as Livvy suggested, and turned to me. "Lily," she said. "Over Christmas, do a bit of soul-searching on this matter, all right? Because when you come back from break, you need to do something about this poor guy. Either tell him you love him or tell him out-right that you're only ever going to be friends."

"Okay, Alice," I said. "I will."

This pacified her considerably and she was back to her usual, bubbly self. The conversation turned over fairly quickly to Livvy and Russell, and how he was going to visit Livvy's house this vacation on Christmas Eve. She had given him the address and he was going to Floo over to see her. He wasn't allowed to stay the night – her parents would've died if she suggested it – but he was allowed to come back in the morning to spend the rest of Christmas Day with Livvy. She was over the moon about the whole thing.

We talked for a long time, giggling as we each pantomimed various scenarios that could occur between Russell and the Harris family during his stay. Livvy was a good sport about all the fun, and I could see that glow in her again, the one I saw during the snowball fight. Russell really did do her a world of good – I have rarely ever seen her as happy as she is when she is with him.

To be very frank, Russell has been on my mind a lot for the past couple of days. His presence in my life, even when he is not physically there, has been overwhelming on my life. As thrilled as I am on my friend's behalf, I can't help but sigh a little when I think of Russell, because he has taken Livvy over so effectively.

Livvy lives and breathes Russell. She would spend all her days with him, if she could. She talks about him endlessly and although she is still around to support me and be with me, I can tell she's almost wholly invested in someone else, someone who could leave her unexpectedly, if he so desired. It worries me, that Livvy has made Russell her everything; because if something goes wrong (which I have been trained to think it might) she would have nothing and Alice and I would be the ones who would be left to nurse her broken soul. I don't think I could do that; because while Livvy is tough, she's tough only within her limits. Otherwise, she falls apart. I am protective of her, because only once, when her grandmother passed away, did I see her break down completely.

I see her right now, lying in front of me, sleeping so peacefully, and I fear the power she has given Russell. She's taking a huge chance on him and I am terrified it might backfire on her. I just don't want her to get hurt.

Oh, damn. I think we're getting close to the station now. I hear the conductor speaking over the intercom. Considerations shall have to wait for the time being. Alice and Livvy are beginning to stir and they have yet to change, since they had been sleeping and all. Luckily, I think Alice has put James aside in her mind for a little while and she will be capable of talking about something/someone else, finally. I'd better go take advantage of it.

It'll take me a while to get home (my mum is an infamously slow driver) so I think I'll write again in the morning, when I'm a little more coherent.

'Night!

--

A/N: Yeah, a little short, a little less interesting than the party at Slughorn's, but don't worry. Next chapter is stuff about Lily's home life, Petunia and Vernon, and Alice has a bit of an issue she will be ranting at Lily about. I hope to still keep things interesting, but I needed a chill-back chapter after the last one.

Please remember to review on your way out and we'll both be extremely happy!


	27. I Return Home to More Chaos

A/N: Sorry about the wait on this one. My schedule's been a little wonky and my muse is being a tad rebellious…

This chapter is family life; the next chapter is nostalgia; the chapter after is Christmas Day, which has its own surprises. Then we go back to Hogwarts. Just in case you're curious about the flow of events while we're away from the school.

Enjoy, guys!  
X

--

December 22

**5:30 PM  
**_Status_: Thoughtful

I've been meaning to write all day, but it's been kind of a whirlwind since I got back and I haven't been able to find the time to sit down and write properly. Until now, when I've locked myself in my room to catch my breath.

I mean, this morning, I woke up at 11:59 AM. Exactly. That's the latest I've slept in since the summer, when I woke up at that time everyday. Then my mum whisked me off to the shower and I had to get ready to have lunch with my parents. After lunch, Mum and I went for a film while my father went for a round of golf – his leisure activity of choice. Now we've only just got back and Mum needs to start getting dinner together. That's why I have the time.

But let me start from the beginning – from yesterday, when my family picked me up from the train station.

I got off the train with Alice and Livvy, all three of us thoroughly excited to be so close to home again. We promised each other we would get in contact and everything, since we all have Floo power we can put to its best advantages. Then we dispersed, because our families were waiting to see us.

I can always tell which one is my family. First, they are Muggles, which makes them conspicuous. Then, my mum has prominent, bright hair, like me – only, I have some of my dad's brown in my roots, while Mum is a true redhead. It's very easy to pick her out of a crowd that way, because there are rarely any other redheads walking around the station, looking for the Hogwarts Express.

But mostly, it's because my mum is the loudest one at the station, shouting at me that they're here, they're here! Like I don't know already.

"Lily! Lily!" hollered Mum now. "Here, honey!"

Still, despite that, I was very happy to see her.

"Hi!" I ran down as fast as my trunk would let me go, and Mum was more than ready to meet me halfway, pulling me into a rib-crushing hug that she kept up for about thirty seconds. I found it very difficult to breathe and was a little relieved when she finally let go.

"Hey, Mum, nice to see you," I said, grinning.

"Oh, Lily Bear," she said affectionately, resurrecting my old, hated nickname from childhood. "It's so lovely to see you."

"She was counting the days from when you left," teased Dad, coming forward to see me as well. "Hey, Lils."

Thankfully, Lily Bear is just a Mum thing. My dad is much more sensible that way – he prefers the nicknames my friends give me, like Lil or Lils. He reaches out and hugs me too, firm but not smothering.

"Where's Tuney?" I asked, craning my neck for her.

"She's just coming – she went to get a snack from inside," said Mum all in a rush, as though she still couldn't believe her younger daughter was standing right in front of her. It always takes her a couple of days to realize she has two children in her house for Christmas, poor thing.

"Oh, okay," I said. "Hey, Dad, d'you think you could help with this…?"

"Yeah, yeah," said Dad. "Let me take it from here, Lils. I'll bring it around to the car, you and your mother can go get Petunia."

"Thanks," said Mum, giving him a peck on the cheek. "Come along, darling. Would you like to eat something too? Shall I get you a snack from inside as well?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you," I said. "They gave us plenty on the train."

"So, how was term?" asked Mum. "What did you learn? How are your grades doing? How are Alice and Olivia?"

And the conversation rolled from there. I told Mum all about the hell I was put through for N.E.W.T. exams (she crooned sympathetically and reminisced a bit about college) and about how my grades are holding up solid (she told she always knew I was the smart one in the family) and about how Livvy has a secret boyfriend (Mum agrees with me – we should tell James about Russell).

We found Tuney inside eating a Cadbury bar, and I gave her a rather cool hug when I saw her, and I went on talking, because the elation from seeing my family drove me to chronic babbling about everything I could think about. Luckily for me, my parents were ravenous for news and we spent the whole of the long car ride home talking.

I was so happy to be here that even Petunia's quietness (with very infrequent inserts) didn't bother me as much as usual.

We live in a small neighborhood in the midst of Ipswich, which is a few hours away from London by car. Our house is small, cozy, and absolutely perfect in every way, in my humble opinion. It's been home since before I was born, because that was where Mum and Dad moved when they first got married.

I can't even begin to describe the flood of warmth that raced through my veins when I saw it, coming up the street in my car window. It was like everything was right in my world, for once; like nothing could hurt me, nothing could touch me, when I was at home.

We got inside and at once, I ran all around the house, doing a victory dance and shouting and singing and generally being a complete twat. I completely forgot that I was seventeen years old – going on eighteen – and danced about like I was five. Tuney and my parents watched me bemusedly as I hugged every single thing in my bedroom and bounced around my living room, all sorts of memories flooding back to me.

I really do think I'm at Hogwarts far too long. Sometimes, I forget what it's like to be in a regular house with the family that raised me.

Once Mum got me to calm down, we went out for a late dinner on the town, all four of us. I swear, our part of Ipswich is nocturnal – everybody's awake for most of the night and they sleep for most of the morning to start the whole cycle all over again. We had some chicken tikka from the local stand and walked around town together, eating and talking and spilling things and catching up.

Even Petunia was a little more animated once she had some chicken into her – she told me all about how her boyfriend, Vernon, was doing. And I was so excited to hear her talk that I decided to momentarily forget that I thought Vernon was a right pig and joined in her delight. Mum was just happy to see us get along, because sometimes, we are not very good sisters to each other.

We finished our dinner and went home, where Mum uncovered her big surprise – she had made me a chocolate welcome home cake! Of course, she had me at chocolate, and I eagerly cut it, shared it around, and stuffed my face, quite glad that Livvy wasn't there to see me at it. Afterwards, we sat in the living room for a while, making small-talk and convincing Mum to get us another glass of cocoa, and stayed for an hour or two before Dad announced he was going to bed. It was midnight by that point.

I went upstairs, ready to snooze and have a bit of a lie-in tomorrow, but Petunia surprised me, joining me on the way up the stairs and asking if we could go to my room to talk. I said of course and we went to sit on my bed together, just like old times.

"So…is it good to be home for Christmas?" asked Petunia.

"Yes," I said fervently. "It's lovely to be here with you lot – I've missed being at home for so long. It feels like it's been ages."

"Sometimes, it's difficult to remember that I have a sister," admitted Petunia.

"For me as well," I said. "But I mean, no matter where we are, I know I'll see you again eventually, right?"

"Right…" Petunia chewed on her lip and began playing with her necklace, something I recognized as one of her many nervous habits. She averted her eyes from me, quiet for a few moments, and then she said, "Erm…the real reason I wanted to be here was because I have to talk to you about something. Something important that I haven't really broached to Mum and Dad yet."

Despite the nervous urgency of my Tuney's tone, I couldn't help but feel a trill of warmth wash through me at the idea that Tuney was about to confide in me. In recent years – well, actually, ever since I got accepted to Hogwarts – Tuney and I haven't been very close and I missed our old, childhood intimacy. She's only two years older than me, so she used to tell me everything before, and I used to look up to her, asking her for advice on _everything_, because she knew what she was doing.

These days, though, I only ever catch her for days at a time, when I come home on vacation. I write to Mum and Dad sometimes, but Tuney never writes to me and so I don't know what to say to her, in case she's busy or doesn't want to talk to me.

Now, I felt a sense of virtuous importance, being my sister's secret-keeper again. I said, "Yes, of course. You know you can tell me anything."

Petunia smiled shyly at me. "Well…it's about Vernon."

"Ah, I see." Since as long as I can remember, we've always had an unstated rule that we never discuss boys with our parents. It's just too painful. "What's going on?"

"Well…you know I rather fancy him," she says, still not looking at me as she fiddles with loose threads on my bedspread. "There's plenty to fancy – he's rather handsome, and clever, and ambitious, and quite caring. And we've been going out for nearly five years now, which is pretty much forever these days, and I don't think my feelings for him are going away."

"So what are you trying to say here?" I asked.

Only at this critical point in our conversation did Petunia look me in the eyes, her pale ones on my deeper emerald ones. I saw complete earnestness in them, complete surrender, and I felt an instinctual need to grasp her hand. She allowed me to, and said:

"I think I want to marry Vernon, Lily."

These few words – eight of them, I counted – threw my head for an absolute spin. Petunia Evans? A bride? To _Vernon_?

At first, I could barely speak.

"I knew you'd do something like that," said Petunia with a sigh. "And I'm sure Mum and Dad will be the same way…but I mean, I'm going to turn twenty in April. I'm an adult and I can make my own decisions. I listened when Mum and Dad made me stay here, but I want to move in with Vernon, start a life with him. I want to be his wife. Is that such a horrible thing?"

She looked imploringly at me, her face so open, like it almost never is anymore. She wanted something from me – acceptance. She wanted me to be happy for her and be her supportive baby sister, who stuck by her no matter what. She wanted me to forget about all the riffs we've had in the past and be there for her, because we're family. She wanted me to keep her secret and pat her on the back and tell her this was a grand thing to do.

But I wasn't sure if I could do it.

I did try, though. I forced a smile, cleared my throat, said well done, that's very exciting. I promised to be her maid of honor in her wedding. I also promised I wouldn't tell Mum and Dad. She was pleased about that, I know, and we spent a little more time talking on my bed before Tuney floated off to bed, but I was kind of in shock after she dropped her big bombshell on me.

Petunia really wants to be a wife – it's obvious she has given this considerable thought. But me, I can't see Petunia getting married and moving into her own place and giving birth and having her own life. I can only see Tuney, my big sister, who played in the sprinklers with me and scared monsters out of my closet and told me secrets and taught me what was cool.

Can those two people really be the same?

The obvious answer is no. Petunia is right about one thing – she is a woman now. She can't always be Tuney; like with Livvy, I have to accept that she is going to be someone's Petunia one day, a day which is coming up very soon. But _still_. This rupture in my family dynamics is difficult to bear.

When Petunia left, I lay in bed and stared at my ceiling for a long time, remembering all the times she snuck in here and how many times I went to her room, all the things we used to whisper about in the dead of night when our parents weren't around to listen. It saddens me, in a way, because those two little girls feel so far away from the people we are now.

However, I was so exhausted after my full day that I conked out pretty much immediately. In the morning, I figured that was a good thing. My brain was too numb to think properly about something as vast as Petunia getting married, so I put it out of my head temporarily and went about my day as usual, with Mum and Dad.

And now, here I am. Writing about it all.

Damn. I think I hear Mum calling. She needs a sampler for what she made for dinner, and for as long as we can remember, that's been my job. I'd better go take a look.

I'm sure I'll be writing again later tonight. So…until then.

**9:45 PM**  
_Status_: Astonished

So…yes, yes, I am writing. Again. But I do have a good reason to do so – and its name is Alice.

This is a transcript of our phone conversation after I ate dinner with my family…

Alice: Hey, Lils?

Me: Hey, darling. How are you? Why'd you ring?

Alice: I have to talk to you about something.

Me: Really? Are you all right?

Alice: Erm…I don't know.

Me: Okay. Go on. Talk. What's up?

Alice: Well…erm…Frank…

Me: Frank? Is Frank okay?

Alice: Yeah, yeah, Frank's fine.

Me: Good.

Alice: It's just…he owled me yesterday evening. I got his note pretty much the second I went in the door.

Me: What did he say?

Alice: He…asked me to meet him today at Hyde Park.

Me: Hyde Park? No way! Did you go?

Alice: Of course I went. I got up at seven in the morning, conned my mum out of some Muggle money to buy a train ticket, and I was there at noon exactly, as he'd asked. And he was there too.

Me: Oh my gosh. Go on.

Alice: So it was really snowy and there were a lot of people milling about on the sidelines, but Frank was in the middle, sitting on a snowy bench. He had made a path for me through the snow and I followed it and we sat down on the bench. Then it started snowing again.

Me: Yeah, the weatherman said London would get a lot of snow today.

Alice: He was right. So I was sitting by him on this bench with all this snow falling on my head. He wasn't really saying anything, so I asked him why he wanted to meet me here.

Me: And what did he say?

Alice: He said…he said he just wanted to see me.

Me: But hadn't he already seen you off from school?

Alice: That's what I told him. I said he could've contented himself with letter-writing or something. Why did he have to see me in London in the middle of winter while it snowed outside?

Me: So…what did he say to that?

Alice: He said he wanted to see-see me and this was a good place to do so. Then—

Me: Did you go walk with him or something?

Alice: Well, yeah, but I'm not there yet. Do shut up, Lils, so I can tell you more about it!

Me: Sorry, sorry. I'm a little excited. Go on.

Alice: It's okay. So anyway, I just kind of looked at him, since I was confused and all. He got really flustered and pink—

Me: Well, the pink could be due to the snow…

Alice: It wasn't the bloody snow, Lily! Shut up!

Me: Sorry!

Alice: _Anyway_…he seemed extremely uncomfortable, so I said we could go for a walk around London instead of getting snowed on. He liked the sound of that and agreed. We left Hyde Park and wandered about downtown, just the two of us, like old times. We were having loads of fun, because a few stray birds were pecking around and Frank kept running at them and scaring them away. He made me laugh. We went window-shopping and basically acted like total idiots, joking and teasing and falling over random patches of ice.

Me: So is that what you called to tell me? You and Frank made fools of yourselves in London?

Alice: Not quite…see, we stayed for most of today and it felt like we could've stayed there forever. At five, though, it began to get darker and I said I had to go home, because I hate taking the tube at night by myself. Frank looked really disappointed and asked me if I had time for coffee before I left. I agreed.

Me: That's so—

Alice: Shut up, Lily. I'm getting to the good part here.

Me: Sorry. Excited. Continue.

Alice: _Gosh_, Lils. Right, now where was I…

Me: You and Frank went for coffee.

Alice: Yes, yes! Okay, I got it. So me and Frank went for coffee at this cute little café on the corner of a busy street. It was nice – really intimate and all – and since I didn't have any more money, I asked Frank to borrow a little bit. He said it was fine and he bought us both drinks. We sat at a table by the window to watch the snow as we drank.

[Now, she sighed – weary, nervous.]

Alice: Lils, this is where things get kind of weird and personal. You ready for this?

Me: Of course, Alice.

Alice: Okay…so we were sitting there together, and the snow began to pick up. I picked up my coffee and said I ought to go now, because there's some walking involved in my route plan and I want to get home as fast as I can, in case the storm gets any worse. Frank said he would walk me to the station, since there was no point in him staying back, and we went on our way.

We got to the station and I had to catch a different train than he did. It was due in a few minutes, so I gave him a hug, thanked him for the coffee and the lovely day out, and he smiled at me. I was about to go and wait for the train, but he stopped me, and said there was a reason he wanted to spend today with me.

Obviously, I asked him what it was, and he sighed. "It's hard to explain, Alice," was what he said to me. And I told him to try.

[She paused here, seemingly gathering her thoughts. She was quiet for several seconds, and I was going to ask her what was up, but then she started talking again, her voice tough and determined.]

Alice: He told me he had done something bad. I asked him what it was…and he held my hand, and told me he had fallen for his best friend.

Me: OH MY GOSH! OH MY GOSH! I TOTALLY KNEW IT!!

Alice: Oh, Lily, it was so _romantic_ and so _frightening_! I mean, my heart was totally pounding in my chest, and I felt like I had a stomachache, and I actually dropped my coffee, and it was still, like, half-full.

Me: Wait, so what happened next? What did you _say_?!

Alice: Well…gosh, I think I just stood there for a second, staring at him. I heard my train come, but I didn't move. Frank kind of glanced at it, as though daring me to catch it. I didn't, though. I just…I was in shock! I've never had _anyone _tell me they fancy me. I've always fancied _them_. I really didn't know what to say.

Me: But what did you _say_?!

Alice: I said exactly that – I don't know what to say. He kind of snickered, but he got serious again, and he said that if I didn't like him that way, it was fine, but he wanted me to know and he hoped we wouldn't…you know…be all weird about it if it didn't work out.

Me: You didn't leave him like that, did you?

Alice: Lily, my train was leaving and I had to get home. I was caught and confused and Frank Longbottom just told me he fancied me. I didn't know what to do and I panicked. I didn't tell him anything. I fled to my train.

Me: And you call _me _the coward?

Alice: Frank is my best friend, Lils. I was…I was afraid. I had a stupid moment and now I don't know what to do. I'm home now.

Me: Oh my gosh. We need to consult Livvy on this one.

Alice: I rang her a little before I left with Frank. Her mum said she was out.

Me: I'm going to call her and owl her tonight. You guys are coming over tomorrow regardless of what you're doing and that's final.

Alice: Thanks, Lily.

Me: You won't be thanking me after I give you a talk about cowardice tomorrow, when I can shake you properly.

Alice: I wouldn't expect anything less. I'm just stressed out. I'm scared. Nothing like this has ever happened to me, you know?

Me: I do. And that's why I'm telling you thank you for your trust and we'll talk about this properly tomorrow with Livvy.

Alice: I love you so much, Lily Evans.

Me: I know. I have to go, though. Good night, Alice.

Alice: Good night, Lils.

And that's what she told me. That's the reason she called me.

_Frank finally told Alice how he felt about her_.

Although Alice is sufficiently freaked out by this development, I kind of saw it coming. I mean, the way they act together, they just work. They belong with each other. It's so obvious. Frank and Alice have this spark, this adorable burst of liveliness, that surrounds them and never fades away. Even if they were only ever friends before, it was clear that they had eyes only for the other, and they kept it sweet.

Alice is self-blind – she only sees love stories in everyone who isn't herself – but I know this has been coming on a long time. Maybe that's why the reality of it is hitting me so strangely, so heavily, like lead in my stomach, as I think about it and try to write down how I'm feeling.

Last year, Livvy was single, I was single, I barely spoke to my sister, and Alice's relationship with her old boyfriend, Julius, was on the decline. Now, it seems like everyone's paired up except for me – Livvy has Russell, Alice has Frank, and Petunia is going to marry Vernon, while I remain alone.

I feel weird, like I'm defective or something, because I haven't found someone I fancy yet. I know it's irrational and that I'm not horribly defective when it comes to relationships, but I can't help those flashes of self-doubt passing through my head at moments like these, when I'm sitting alone in my room without my Someone on my mind.

I'm happy for Livvy, Alice, and Tuney. I really am. They mean the world to me and I care deeply for them. But at the same time, I wish they wouldn't leave me behind like this.

For some reason, I feel kind of like I did during the Halloween party – like everyone in the whole bleeding world is having fun except for me.

I'm trying to get over this particular emotion, but I'm finding it difficult. This was supposed to be a vacation, but I'm just as stressed here as I was in school. Since when does life work like that? Holidays are stress-relievers; but now, I have even more to worry about when I return.

I think it's time for bed now. I sincerely hope this looks better in the morning; because right now, I feel like the most hopeless person in the world. I'm just glad Alice isn't here to see me like this.

'Night for now.

--

A/N: Review button is right down there. Give it a click, if you can. It would make me extremely happy!


	28. I Do Some More Growing Up

A/N: Sorry again for the wait here. My muse is a little sporadic right now. It's being an obnoxious prat, actually, surprising me and then abandoning me, and I'm trying to get it back on track. Of course, it's not going well. I've attempted one-shots to revive it, but alas, the stupid thing remains elusive. So I'm trying, but Spider Solitaire has suddenly become too appealing to give up. Ugh.

Otherwise…erm…I promised you nostalgia now (plus drama), so nostalgia (plus drama) you shall receive. Do your best to enjoy it.

--

December 24

**8:20 AM**  
_Status_: Brooding

Well…first off, before I go off into my brooding rants and emotional traumas from yesterday…Merry Christmas Eve!

The holidays always seem to sneak up on me this way. I mean, at school, I'm so busy with my classes that December glides by like a very vivid dream, as does the rest of the year; and then I come home and all of a sudden, as I'm settling in, it's Christmas. It's slightly disconcerting, to say the very least.

But anyway – it's morning and the only reason I'm awake before noon is because my mum was downstairs making breakfast when she dropped something and shattered the glass. It woke me up like an electric shock of something (information I might have to give to Alice and Livvy for future reference) and Mum, thinking I was functional, called me down to clean it up with my wand.

If there's anyone in the world that loves the fact that I am of age more than me, it would be Mum. She _adores _having a witch in the family. She thinks everything can be solved by magic.

So, there's the start to my morning. I'm already dressed and ready (oh, the horror…) but Alice and Livvy are still asleep on my floor, Alice snoring gently from beneath her covers. My friends are always funny to watch when they're sleeping, because Livvy sleeps restfully on her back, staying still the whole night, while Alice flips and flops like a fish out of water. I'm sure I'm some kind of mixture of the two.

We had quite a day yesterday – and that's kind of why I'm writing. When I left off two days ago, Alice and I were planning on telling Livvy about Frank. Well…yesterday morning, I set three different alarms for myself around my room, and got up at nine o'clock in the morning to call my friends over.

When I got on the phone with Alice, she whined about being out of Floo powder, so I told her to Apparate, which triggered further whining – Alice hates Apparition because she finds it awfully uncomfortable, despite the fact that she passed her test and everything. But I find that I can be very persuasive at the best of times, so I convinced her to Apparate over in the next twenty minutes, when I was done getting ready.

I made the same call to Livvy, who was already dressed – she offered to be over immediately, but I told her twenty minutes. Alice was coming too. She was quite pleased about the idea and said she'd be over in exactly twenty minutes. The moment I put the phone down on her, I sprinted to my bathroom for a record-short shower – because in Livvy-land, she says twenty minutes and comes in ten.

And sure enough, the moment I stepped out of the shower and slipped on my jeans and a sweater, I heard the _Crack! _noise of someone who has just Apparated into the room. Mum's shriek of surprise confirmed it, but she's so used to my friends coming and going through the holidays that she didn't really say anything. I heard her offer Livvy some cereal as I was coming down the stairs.

"Hey, Livs," I said. "You're a little early."

"I was bored," she replied. "My only entertainment at home was Mum arguing with Dad for being late from work again. They're always fighting over that."

"True," I said.

"I'll take some of that cereal, please, Mrs. Evans," she said very sweetly to my mother.

"Sure thing, Livs." Mum has always called her Livvy or Livs, like me and Alice – the few times she tried to call Livvy by her full name, Livvy insisted on Mum joining in the common trend. She got Livvy the cereal and asked when Alice was coming.

"Any minute now," I said, glancing at the kitchen clock.

"Floo powder or Apparition?" asked Mum.

"Apparition," I said. "She's out of Floo powder."

"Where's the rest of your family, Lils?" asked Livvy suddenly, looking around.

"At work," said Mum. "Petunia recently found work at a clothing store in the downtown area. She goes right when it opens so that she can be home at a reasonable hour."

"Ah," said Livvy delicately. She is not the biggest fan of my sister and we all know it.

We were quiet for a few seconds, the still air only punctuated by the crunches of Livvy's cereal-munching. However, we were presently interrupted by Alice's arriving in the kitchen, looking a little dizzy.

"Oh, hey," she said. "Merlin, I hate Apparition. It's _miserable_."

"It's so convenient," I said. "Shut up and hug me, Alice."

I gave her a long, tight hug before allowing her to hug Livvy and my mother. Alice also accepted some cereal and my mother disappeared to go upstairs, leaving us three to chit-chat a little bit about the day's plans. Alice and I had an unspoken mutual agreement that we would spend a normal, happy day with Livvy before settling her down in the evening to prep her for the big news. That meant we really had to keep ourselves busy, so we wouldn't blurt it out all of a sudden.

We actually did have quite an interesting time together. We decided to stick around the house for most of the morning, finishing the box of cereal between the three of us and making chocolate-chip-cookies-with-any-other-random-bits-of-chocolate-we-can-get-our-hands-on.

This was a very interesting exercise, mostly because of Alice. Alice loves food, but she hates having to go through the trouble of cooking it; so once the cereal finished, she began to eat the chocolate we were going to put in our cookies.

It got to be so bad that I put careful, measurement-cautious Livvy in charge of making the dough while I confiscated any chocolate Alice might have access to.

I was doing really well – Alice stayed away from all the treats – until I realized that she had hidden some chocolate chips in her back pocket and slipped them in when she thought I wasn't looking. I had some fun hexing her for _that _one.

The cookies came out really nicely, thanks to Livvy's faithful interpretation of the cookbook. Alice gobbled her share up surprisingly fast, while Livvy and I made them last, nibbling them all day, driving Alice mad. Mum came down as the scents of cookies wafted through the house and had a couple as well. She said they were delicious. We agreed.

After cookies, Alice, Livvy and I went to the little tea shop on the corner of Tremont Street. Mum gave us a bit of Muggle money and we bought cups of tea, having missed good old English tea while up at Hogwarts. Livvy happily chattered away about all the mad conversations she had with Russell over the phone, and how he's dying to see her, and how she misses him even though it's only been two days.

"I mean, it's like I _need _him near me in order to function," she said dreamily, adding too much milk to her tea and turning it almost white. "I don't like being away from him."

"Darling, this is dangerous," said Alice.

"And because we care about you, we're going to say this as kindly, but honestly, as we can," I say.

I open my mouth to say something, but Alice cuts me off by saying, "You need a _life_. This is getting way out of control."

Livvy looked extremely insulted by this. "I do too have a life!" she insisted.

"But you feel like you don't if Russell isn't around you," I said. "That's not a life. We don't want Russell to have this much influence on you. He's a nice guy, but he's not so nice that you suddenly abandon living in favor of him."

"You don't understand us," proclaimed Livvy. "You don't get it. You've never had a love like this one, the one I have with Russell. It's _worth _it. I mean, I barely got to be with him at school, because we can't be together, and now that I have a chance to be with him, I want to."

"So you'd pick your boyfriend over your best friends?" demanded Alice, gesturing to herself and me.

"I'm not picking anyone over anyone," said Livvy, her tone firm. "I'm only saying I want to be with Russell. I'm not Apparating off to his house or anything of the sort."

"But you want to," I said softly. "That makes a difference."

Livvy went silent for a second, appraising us critically with her brown eyes. I could tell she was annoyed, but what could we do, let her moon around Russell her whole vacation?

Then, to both our surprise, her expression softened all the way down and she looked like she was going to burst into tears at any second.

"See, I knew this would happen," she said, alarmingly close to a mental breakdown. "I _knew _it."

"What?" asked Alice. She was as bewildered as me.

"_This_!" she wailed suddenly. "You and Lily rallying against me!"

"We're not rallying against you," I said before I could stop myself. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You don't understand my relationship with Russell," she sobbed, "but you're both judging it and you're ganging up against me. I was afraid of that. I didn't want you to make me feel bad about the first real relationship I've ever had, and now you are, together, and I…I dunno, you make me feel so rotten, and then I go to Russell, and he's the only one who makes me feel like you _aren't _out to get me—"

"Livs, you're our friend," I interrupted her, reaching my hand across the table to touch hers. "We are never going to be out to get you. We're just telling you this because it's for your own good. We want you to have a healthy relationship—"

"You're on Alice's side!" she all but shouted at me, startling me with her shining eyes, blotchy red nose, raw, strangled voice. A minute ago, she had been mild and dreamy, and now her temper is rising in full swing.

"I am not on Alice's side," I said. "We only happen to think that—"

"This is how it always is!" she cries. "You and Alice, thinking _exactly _the same thing, because you've been friends longer than you've known me and you're always on the same page! I'm practically a third wheel to you guys – you are happy amongst yourself, you tell Alice things before you tell me, and you agree all the time! And when you don't, I try and help one of you, try to _be _part of the group; but then you make up, agree on something else, and I'm left out, like I don't mean anything at all. And now you're doing that _again_, ganging up on me when on the night of the train, I was helping you against Alice, a-and—"

By this point, Livvy was at the point of a psychotic break-down, sobbing and getting tears inside her overly milky tea cup. Alice and I were simply dumbfounded, looking at each other and then at Livvy, who was pretty much crying her eyes out and attracting all sorts of attention from passersby.

The things she was saying were ludicrous. She was babbling. She was upset, goodness knows why, and all of a sudden, the fragile balance of her world overturned and pinned her underneath it. She pulled her hand from under mine as though it was on fire and she sobbed great heaving sobs – real ones – into her palms, while Alice and I wondered what the hell we were supposed to do.

Alice, being Alice, gave me a look that told me to handle the emotional stuff – _she _wasn't getting in the middle of it. Alice has the emotional sensitivity of a chainsaw at the best of times, a shortcoming we were both well aware of, so I nodded and tried to size up how to comfort my friend.

The things she were saying, while mildly peculiar, had a little bit of truth in them.

I mean, in a group of three, there's always going to be two of them that are a tiny bit closer than the other set of two; and in ours, it's true, Alice and I are just a tiny bit closer than I am with Livvy. Alice and Livvy are mostly bound by me, because they're complete polar opposites, so I am the central cog in this group, trying to keep them together. But I can't deny that Alice and I have been friends since first year and she knows me as well as she knows herself. Sometimes, that changes things.

Once she ranted at us, I could see why she favored being with Russell over us sometimes. She felt like a third wheel; she felt like she was hindering us, and therefore herself; and when you're with someone like Russell, who cares deeply and tenderly and wholly, it's difficult not to miss that and judge your friends a little more critically.

But that still doesn't make it right – because regardless of everything, I know that Alice and I love Livvy very much, and that won't change.

Carefully, I edged my chair towards Livvy, and I tried to think of what to say. My mind drew a blank. Alice, obviously, was no help, gulping down her tea and avoiding my eye. So, this in mind, I decided to say nothing. I set my chair beside hers and gently pried her up from her hands, taking in the sight of her red, tear-stained face.

Wordlessly, I eased her head onto my chest and she hugged me, her head on my collarbone, her hiccups and sobs reverberating into my throat. I stroked her soft hair and held her as she calmed down, as Alice finished her tea and watched us anxiously.

We were quiet after that, the cheerful winter atmosphere we'd had dissipated quite a bit. Eventually, Livvy stopped crying and finished her then-cooled tea, much to Alice's inner disgust (because she hates cold tea).

"Sorry," was the first thing she said. "That was really out of line, I shouldn't have said all that…o-or cried…"

"It's okay," said Alice. "You needed to say it. So you did."

"I really don't know what I'm doing," she said.

"Does anyone?" I asked.

She smiled weakly. "I love you guys. I do. But I mean…"

"We get it," I said. "But you have to remember – this is how it is with groups of three. There are always going to be quirks in the way we communicate, but it doesn't mean we love each other any less."

"We know you love Russell," said Alice. "All we were trying to say was that we want you to love him properly, without smothering him, or smothering yourself."

"I'm trying," she said with a sniffle.

"That's all we ask," I said. "I mean, we've all had boyfriends, so we know how hard it is to balance the two relationships. We want you to be with Russell. But if he interferes in your life to the point where you literally cannot live with him, we have a problem. All of us."

"Sorry," she said again.

"You don't need to be sorry," said Alice. "Just…I dunno…think about it. Work on it."

"And Alice does have something to share with you when we get home," I said, sharing a look with her. "Some news. It's important."

"Do you already know it?" asked Livvy.

I blushed, caught. "Well…yes…but…"

"I called you first," said Alice. "You weren't home, so I called Lily. We wanted to tell you this evening."

"Oh, okay, sorry about that," said Livvy, pacified. Disaster averted. "Yeah…I'd like to know. What is the nature of this news?"

"Awesome," I said with a grin.

"Can't wait!" chirped Livvy, back to her former cheerfulness. "So…d'you want to head home, then?"

"Sounds good," said Alice. "Let's go."

At this point, we got up from our table and took the tube back to my parent's house. The ride wasn't too long, and we talked about silly, trivial things on our way, but I felt a little uneasy all the same. Livvy's mood seemed fragile, like another good push could throw her over the edge once more, and Alice's enthusiasm felt the tiniest bit forced. But I didn't want to say anything. Saying something would jinx it even further.

When we got home, Livvy was in the mood for something delicious, since her tea got cold in the afternoon. Mum was nice enough to make us cups of hot cocoa to take upstairs. Night was beginning to fall, early because of winter and everything, so we cuddled into some of my sweaters and sat upstairs around my room, our feet cuddled in blankets and my lamps casting a sweet golden glow on my furniture. It was a lovely atmosphere for talking, and Alice took advantage of it, sipping slowly at her cocoa as she began to tell Livvy the story.

She told it very much like she told me, but she did add a couple of details she hadn't told me. This could be because she feels guilty about Livvy's outbreak, or because she genuinely remembered, or even because she's fabricating the truth just the tiniest bit, but I don't dwell on that. I sit mutely, drinking my cocoa, as Livvy gasps and squeals at the idea of Alice and Frank.

"Oh my _word_!" she cries out, her hand on her chest. "This is so _exciting_, Alice! Frank is in love with you!"

"I know," she shrieked. "What the hell am I supposed to do?! It's the weirdest feeling, knowing your best friend fancies you, and I don't know what to say, what to do, what to wear…I mean, I have to send him a Christmas present, and I don't know if what I have for him will work!"

"Well, what did you get?" I asked reasonably.

"I was going to make him a little cake," said Alice. "He loves to eat. He's like you that way."

"Ha. Ha. You're hilarious," I said sarcastically.

"No, but seriously," said Alice. "Should I get him something cuter? Something girlfriend-ish? Should I even _be_ his girlfriend?"

"Of course you should be his girlfriend," I said. "You belong together."

"But this is so _unexpected_!" wailed Alice. "I haven't had time to think, or consider my feelings, or freak out about how he might feel! It's like I've fast-forwarded through all of that vital, getting-used-to-mattering-to-someone stuff. This isn't how it's supposed to work! I don't know what do!"

"Well, it's not that hard," said Livvy practically. "You've been friends since you were pretty much in diapers. You_ know_ him; he's not some stranger you picked up off the street. Going out with him wouldn't be hard, because you guys go out all the time. Dating isn't some fancy sacrificial ritual – it's just being with someone who makes you happy."

"And you're already kind of a girlfriend," I added. "You tease him, you flirt with him, you sit on his lap and make him help you with your homework. You know his family and friends, all his secrets and fears and desires. All the base stuff is there. It's just a matter of making it official in both your heads."

"But…it's so…it can't be that easy," said Alice, her eyes wide. "With all the other boyfriends I've had, it was such a long, hard slog to get them to be with me. This…it can't be right!"

"Love doesn't always have to be hard," said Livvy. "Sometimes, it just happens. I guess this is one of those times."

"Personally, I think it's great," I said. "You've got a love story ready-made for you."

"It's so…out-of-place," said Alice wondrously. "It feels like something is missing."

"Nothing's missing," I said, grinning. "You're just fabulous, Alice. And now, the future of this relationship is all on you. Do you want to take the next step, or do you not?"

"I'm…" Alice's voice trailed off, her eyes worried. I could relate to this worry. I mean, it _is _strange to think that, out of the blue, you have a relationship that's suddenly pending on your shoulders. And with your best friend at that. Poor Alice. In this case, I'm so glad I'm not her.

"I don't know," she said, subsiding. "I think I'm going to send him my cake and see him again at school to sort it out."

"That's a good idea," agreed Livvy. "Sleep on it. Best way to solve any problem."

"Yeah, pretty much."

I smiled at both of my friends, sitting on my floor with me, wearing my sweaters and drinking my cocoa. They are such a central part of my life, they really are, and seeing them there, in that atmosphere, after what we'd just discussed, made me feel warmer than I ever thought I could be.

We fell asleep to the inane conversation of exhausted teenage girls, right there on my floor, and that's where we are now. The mugs of cocoa still need to be taken downstairs. I'll ask for the sweaters back once they get up.

You know, it's about nine now. I think it's time to help my friends wake up in the morning, for once…I think when they are conscious, they will appreciate the irony.

Until later tonight, then.

**10:30 PM**  
_Status_: Nostalgic

Alice and Livvy left ten and a half hours ago.

They stayed for breakfast (more cereal and the three cookies we had to pry out of Alice's hands) but at noon, Alice said she had to go back to her family and Livvy said she was expecting Russell. They Apparated off and I was left home with my mum and sister (who didn't have to work) – Dad would be home at around five.

Mum, who hates cleaning, had me magically tidy the house for her in a matter of minutes. I didn't mind that. Tuney purposefully left the room every time my wand came out, which was troubling, but not altogether unexpected. She spent a lot of time in her room on the phone with Vernon.

I didn't want to disturb her. Girls get weird when you try to interfere with their boyfriend-time.

Mum and I fixed up the kitchen and decided to make more Christmas cookies. This was the only time I spent properly with Petunia all day – 'we girls,' as my mum called us, have made Christmas cookies together from scratch every single year, without fail. It's one of those mother-children things that you _have _to do.

We spent a long time, giggling and putting frosting on the cookies and making a mess. Mum had me clean that magically too, which Petunia didn't like, but none of us could deny that it was fun anyway. We made a plate full of thirty cookies and ate a few of them early, just to make sure they weren't poisoned or anything. Thankfully, they were not. Crisis averted.

Then I had to go and owl off all my presents so that they got under the tree on time. George, my owl, was ready for the task at hand. He has had this assignment every year and he does it proudly. When I had finished wrapping up all the presents I'd bought so lovingly at Hogsmeade, he stuck his leg out proudly for me to tie the bag full of gifts. I told him which friends I had to go to and he hooted in an understanding sort of way.

I love George. He is such a smart, strong little thing. When I got him at the Apothecary, shopping for my first-year supplies, it was because the moment I walked in the door, he hooted loudly from his cage and flapped his wings. I knew we were destined to be soulmates.

Dad came home shortly and gave us all a big hug. He called us his women. Following the age-old Evans family tradition, we all changed into pajamas and watched _It's a Wonderful Life_. Obviously, we all cuddled together on the couch and cried, but it's part of the Christmas experience. It wouldn't have been right without it.

Owls fluttered in and out, making Petunia shriek and holding out bags of gifts for me to pick mine out of. My parents dug out the presents from their signature hiding spot (in the very back of the linens cupboard) and put them under the tree, which we promptly decorated. We always leave that to the last second, because it's the most fun and adds the final Christmas touch to the evening. And by that point, it was ten o'clock and we were banished up to bed, told to wait until Christmas morning, like children, so we could open presents.

I'm currently in bed, like I'm supposed to be, looking at my walls and the picture frames, the memories floating through my head. This is the magic hour, the hour that has been the subject of so many Christmas stories. It feels familiar, like I've been thrown back in time to when I was seven and missing my two front teeth and hoping Santa would give me my adult teeth already. But it also feels unbearably, bitter-sweetly nostalgic.

It has not escaped my notice that this Christmas is the last of its type. It's so fragile, this idea of Christmas – being at my parent's house, the house I grew up in, and doing all the familiar things I've done. It feels like the only Christmas that matters is this one, the one I know. But when you do the same thing every year, you can see with an alarming clarity how much you yourself have changed as a person; and I have never felt farther from my quirky, hopeful baby self than I do right now.

Earlier today, after watching _It's a Wonderful Life_, my dad put on the evening news to hear the top headlines. There have been a few very strange disappearances lately, and after consulting Livvy's copy of _The Daily Prophet_, I know that there have been more, and the Wizarding world is worried. No one can figure out who committed those crimes.

That's the world I'm going to go into, in June. The world I'm expected to grow up in, navigate on my own. Of course my parents are going to be here to help me if I need it, but how long can I need them? When is it finally time for me to be my own person? Do I even want to be? Is that a bad thing?

Tonight felt like the last night of its type and it left me more fragile than I can say. When I came up to my room, I sat on my bed for a little while, but I felt restless, so I snuck back downstairs and brought up the rest of the Christmas cookies I'd made with Mum and Petunia. I put on a Christmas record on my record player – soft, of course, so I don't wake anyone – and let the tunes play while binging on sugar. Screw the goals. I am not in the mood to munch on carrots – they are not nearly as comforting.

If this is what being an adult entails, I don't want to be one. I really, really don't. Take me back to age six any time. I'll go.

Merry Christmas.

'Night.

--

A/N: As a soon-to-be-junior in high school, some of the feelings discussed mirror my own at the moment. This chapter was particularly intimate that way. Hope you liked it and please remember to review on your way out of the browser.

Otherwise, yes, yes, I know, you crave LJ fluff – you must be a little annoyed by now, because it's not coming, but don't worry. Very soon, you shall have nothing but LJ fluff for chapters at a time. But for the time being, I swear some pleasing developments shall take place next chapter, Christmas Day. _Please _trust me on that one, yeah? Your lamentations have been heard loud and clear.

Review button is down there. Give it a click. It'll be fun!


	29. I Face Christmas Day

A/N: I am excited about this chapter, because it features two things I've wanted very much to write – a meal at the Evans household with Vernon, and Lily's Christmas present. I think you shall find the development I've got here to be more than satisfactory.

I'm trying really hard to write properly, but my attention is so fragile. It wanders so easily. Sorry if this feels distracted…I've been on and off focus-wise and there's absolutely nothing I can do about it…

Cheers!

--

December 25

**2:00 PM**  
_Status_: Excited

Merry, merry Christmas to all, and to all a lovely day!

Despite my rather troubled night yesterday, I got up early this morning – Christmas morning – and thus far I've had an absolutely wonderful time. I'm always quite a child on Christmas. I woke up my parents at seven in the morning, shouting at them to get downstairs, and dragged Tuney along with me.

United, for once, we two sisters arrived at the tree, where there were already presents waiting for us (Mum and Dad always get up at three AM and put them there for us, intercepting any mail that's come in for us from the previous night – Tuney and I went on an expedition to find this out when we were seven).

Mum and Dad have always been great about getting excited with us no matter how early we wake them, so we four collapsed on the ground, ripping open presents and screaming delightedly at the contents we found.

The presents I received this morning were as follows…

From Mum: A lovely charm bracelet  
From Dad: Charms for my bracelet  
From Petunia: Twenty pounds  
From Livvy: A new alarm clock (haha…but I do actually need one of these)  
From Alice: My favorite Beatles record  
From Frank: A box of yummy candy canes  
From Aunt Bertha and Uncle Max: Sweets  
From Aunt Janine and Uncle Charlie: A gold watch

I was thoroughly pleased with my gifts, but there was one in particular I was looking for. I opened everything and admired it properly, swearing to Mum I would write thank you cards tonight, but I knew something was missing. I almost hated to admit it to myself, but I really was offended.

James Potter had not sent me a Christmas gift.

Now, I mean, I'm not trying to mooch off presents from him or anything – our relationship is still extremely strange – but at the same time, I sent him those socks I bought for him at Hogsmeade. I'd spent so much time worrying and stressing and picking out exactly the right gift, but he hadn't given me anything.

It was hard not to be a little disappointed that he had not thought to get me anything. I knew it was a bad idea to buy him a present. I just knew it. We weren't close enough, not friendly enough, to exchange Christmas presents. Why had I been so stupid? What would he think of me, now that I'd sent him my timid little gift with George?

Would he find me silly? Would he feel guilty, because I'd put him in the awkward spot I was afraid he might put me in? Would he send me a last-second present that he didn't want to give me, just because he didn't want to hurt my feelings?

My worries flew through my head at top speed, making it difficult for me to breathe properly. My Christmas spirit was slightly bruised and tender at the idea of my disposableness, but otherwise, I was in quite a good mood. I listened to my family continue squealing and writing down what everyone gave (we are big on writing thank you cards in this family) and quietly packed up my new gifts, taking them up to my room. I would worry about them later.

Eventually, Mum put aside her Christmas spirit as well and adopted her field marshal persona, ordering us to go upstairs and get dressed. We were going to have lunch together as a family – Mum had made food earlier – and Vernon would be over in a little while. We had to be ready. I dug out my prettiest black skirt and a red shit – and, with a smile, I wore my little red nose that James had allowed me to keep. I knew my family would get a kick out of it.

Vernon arrived two minutes shy of one o'clock, when he was supposed to come. He arrived at our door, all prim and proper and polished, and gave Petunia a cordial peck on the cheek. He hugged my mother, shook my father's hand, and gave me a nod of acknowledgment. He wished us a merry Christmas and asked when lunch would be ready. My mother was charmed, but I was not.

We sat down at the lunch table while Mum flitted about, getting her enormous dishes out and ready to eat. We were starting with the soup. Vernon, in true proper English form, started out the conversation by remarking on the weather.

"A rather dismal day to have Christmas, I rather think," he stated in his usual pompous manner, picking up his spoon to begin his soup. "Quite rainy. It rains so much here."

"Something to do with the North Atlantic weather patterns and the distribution of moisture," said Petunia daintily, copying his motions, taking a sip of her soup.

"Right, right," said Vernon, although I'm ninety-nine percent positive that he hadn't a clue what the North Atlantic weather patterns were like.

"Mum, this is lovely soup," said Petunia, smiling sweetly at Mum.

"Thanks, darling," said Mum. She paused. "So…Vernon…how has your Christmas been thus far?"

"Satisfactory thus far, thank you," said Vernon. "However, my parents had some other business to attend to, so I decided to spend some time with Petunia." His hand edged slightly closer to my sister's and I wanted to kill him. Don't ask me why.

"What business did your parents have on _Christmas_?" asked Dad, drinking his soup as well.

"My father runs a drills company," explained Vernon with that smug look on his face I hate so much. "And dirty work cannot be averted just because of a holiday."

"How unfortunate," I said, only a slight edge of sarcasm in my tone. I'm not even sure anyone at the table picked up on it.

Generally, I try to stay quiet during these gatherings for that reason – because, really, Vernon makes me feel like the most peevish, petty little child in the world. But sometimes, I can't resist. I've never been known for my self-control.

"Yes, it is," agreed Vernon with a very false sort of sigh. "But what can we do?"

_Oh, I can show you what you can do with it… _I thought viciously.

But to his face, I only nodded politely and disappeared into my soup bowl. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Dad was doing pretty much the same thing, but with a bit more discretion – it made me smile.

Dad and I have always eaten the same way – diving into our food and refusing to resurface until we're full or the plate is empty.

The rest of the soup course went smoothly. Mum and Dad and Petunia and Vernon all continued their light chatter, while I inserted a couple of comments, couldn't handle myself, and shut up again. Everything was going perfectly fine…until, during the main course, Vernon began speaking to me directly.

"I say, Lily, I've been wondering since I got here – why are you wearing that red tomato on your nose?" inquired Vernon.

Quietly incensed, I begged myself not to lose my temper. "It's a Rudolph nose," I said steadily, remembering when I myself had referred to it as a tomato. "I just wanted to display a little lighthearted Christmas spirit."

"It's quite childish, Lily, I told you that when you put it on," said Petunia.

This was a lie and we both knew it. Petunia had told me no such thing and she was only saying this now to impress Vernon. Way to bail on your little sister, Tuney. That's all I kept thinking.

"It's a cute little nose," said Mum, coming to my rescue. "It's very becoming on you, Lils. Ever thought about wearing it full-time?"

I smiled at my mother, who winked. "Maybe," I said.

"Wherever did you get it?" Vernon wanted to know.

"A friend gave it to me," I said.

"Which friend?" This time, it was Dad. He had given his mashed potatoes a brief reprieve in order to join the conversation. "Livvy?"

"No," I said. "You don't know him."

"Come now, tell us who the bloke is," said Vernon. "Is it a boyfriend?"

"_No_," I said, perhaps a little too sharply.

"Who, Lily?" persisted Mum.

I sighed. They weren't about to let this one go. "James Potter," I said.

The reactions to this announcement – if I wasn't in such a sour mood – would actually have been hilarious. My whole family (and Vernon, because of Petunia) knew all about James and our bizarre history together. Now, the revelation that he had given me a Rudolph nose and I was wearing it came as a bolt of lightning to them.

Mum actually gasped, while Dad accidentally stuck his elbow in the butter dish. Vernon's eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his face and Petunia actually laughed aloud. I felt my cheeks going pink.

"Why are you wearing it, then, if he gave it to you?" asked Petunia.

"Because…it's cute," I stuttered, going utterly red this time. "I mean, we went to Slughorn's Christmas party – _as friends_, because I had no one else to take – and he gave me the nose…and since it's Christmas, I thought it might be nice…"

"Wait, so are you _together_ now?" asked Petunia, completely missing the 'as friends' part.

"No!" I almost shouted.

"Well, it would make sense…" mused Mum teasingly, a sly smile on her face.

"It's only a nose!" I grumbled. I removed it from my face and put it down resolutely by my plate. "See? That's it. Nose off."

Petunia still giggled. "That's so funny," she said, grinning at me.

"Is not," I said petulantly.

"All right, all right, it's not funny," Mum said. "We're done now. Have some more spaghetti, Lils."

Sullenly, I eyed the spaghetti. It looks a little out-of-place in our lovely Christmas spread, but it's another Evans family tradition, dating back to when I was four years old. Back then, I only ever ate pasta for my meals and on Christmas, in order to get me to eat, Mum had to make an extra plate of spaghetti for me. As it turned out, our guests kept sampling my spaghetti and Mum had to get out another batch to keep up with demand. And so began our tradition of what we now call Pasta a la Lily, which we continue to this day.

Deciding to admit defeat, I took a heaping scoop of spaghetti and plopped it onto my plate. I rested my elbow on the table, my cheek in my palm, my expression bored and my fork playing around in my pasta as the conversation droned on around me, now going back to drills and Vernon's father's company.

I was bored. I was listless. My fantastic Christmas was going through quite a depressing lull and I wanted to have fun. Vernon seemed to be a professional fun-sucker or something, because my life was always a tad miserable when he was around. Why was that?

However, my boredom was very short-lived – a distraction, as welcome as a rainfall during drought, came for me as Mum was bringing out the pudding and ice cream.

We were sitting around the table, Petunia simpering and laughing at Vernon's Japanese golfer joke, while I was staring vacantly out of the window. But, as Mum was setting out the plates and spoons, we heard knocking at the front door. Eagerly, I jumped up to get it, more than happy to escape the lunch table, and I opened the door.

In front of me floated a handsome barn owl holding an enormous bouquet of flowers and a note in its beak.

I blinked a couple of times – obviously this was for me, because it was being delivered by owl – and I called Mum out to help me. She was just as startled as I was, taking the flowers for me, and I took the note from the owl. It flew away once it knew its job was complete and I was left standing in the door, holding the note, as Mum fawned over the flowers.

"Oh my word, Lily, these are _lovely_," she said fondly, examining each brightly colored, distinctive flower between her fingers. "Aren't these lovely, you lot?"

"Wow," said Petunia, impressed, as Mum cheerfully tries to dig up a vase for the flowers, which are sitting on the counter.

"A tasteful arrangement," said Vernon approvingly.

"I certainly hope those are from Alice or Livvy," said Dad forebodingly, eyeing the flowers suspiciously.

"Relax, Dad," I said, grinning, carefully unrolling the parchment in my hand. It was actually two sheets, covered with what was clearly chicken-scratch painfully forced into something presentable. The first one was short, the second was a little longer.

_Dear Lily,_

_Sorry for the lateness of my present. I wanted to get it to you early in the morning, but my owl – his name is Bernard – was out late last night, delivering things, and refused to fly over to your end without a ten hour nap first. I hope I haven't got you at a bad time, as I'm sure you're out doing something terribly interesting._

_Hope you're having a good Christmas!_

_-James_

_P.S. Thanks for the socks. They're really bloody comfortable._

I couldn't help but smile at the parchment, written with such care. So he had gotten me a Christmas present after all – and such a beautiful one. My easy blush came right back to my cheeks and, as my family ate dessert and admired my flowers, I looked to the second piece of parchment.

_Lily—_

_As much as I hate to confess it, the idea for your gift was not mine. Sirius came up with it and he's standing over my head at the moment, making sure I include that in my note. So I'm getting that out of the way first, because Sirius is suggesting some pretty gruesome punishments if I don't._

_I know the bouquet is very pretty, but there's actually a reason for the way it is. Sirius discovered a book of flower meanings in my attic a couple of years ago and we selected those flowers specifically for their traditional meaning. Here's what we found:_

_Amaryllis__ - dramatic  
__Begonia__ - deep thoughts  
__Yellow Carnation__ - cheerful  
__Bronze Chrysanthemum__ - excitement  
__Delphinium__ - boldness  
__Hyacinth__ - sincerity  
__Orchid__ - delicate beauty  
__Lily Calla__ - regal (plus, your name is Lily)_

_Merry Christmas, Lils. I hope you have a great day and I'll see you when we get back to school._

_Cheers!_

_-James_

I think my cheeks were looking pretty much infected by the time I had finished reading the parchment. My heart was drumming a little too fast for comfort and my stomach felt like a twisted-up lead block. Oh my…

To avoid questions, I folded up his notes into my pocket and sidled away, excusing myself from the meal without any dessert (practically unheard of from me). I couldn't explain why I was so utterly and absolutely enchanted by this gift. It was probably the most thoughtful thing anyone had even given me. I was aflutter with excitement and pleasure. All of a sudden, the somewhat grey weather outside (Vernon hadn't been exaggerating when he called the weather dismal) seemed to explode with sunshine.

I was going to call Alice and Livvy right away – I know Alice in particular will want to hear this – but I decided to preserve the moment, immortalize it in my journal, before I did so. When my friends hear about this, I might never hear the end of it today, and I want to make sure I have this down. It's definitely a day to remember.

I'm going to call them now, then. It would be cruel to deprive them of such monumental gossip any longer. Wish me luck as I go into the battle field.

**5:30 PM**  
_Status_: Weary

I was completely right, when I said before that I would need luck going into my battlefield. Alice and Livvy have been wearing away the last of my nerves this evening and now that I've got them safely back in their own houses, I feel I have an obligation to write about how the speculation ordeal went.

After I stopped writing, I went ahead and called the girls over, saying they had to see something _immediately_. My family was distracted saying good-bye to Vernon, who had to leave; this was the perfect time to come on over. Both were a little shaky on the idea – Russell was over with Livvy and Alice was in the midst of something with her family – but the moment I let James's name slip, they were over in two minutes flat.

Alice came first, appearing on my bed, utterly breathless. "Lily, Lily, what happened?" she asked – no, _demanded_. "Did James send you a present? Declare undying love?"

"Yes and no," I said. "He gave me a present, but made no mention of undying love."

"Damn," said Alice. "But it's okay, there's still time left in the year for that. So what was the present?"

"I'm waiting on Livvy, then I'll show you," I said. "She had to explain to Russell why she was leaving him all of a sudden."

"This could take all evening," pointed out Alice.

"True," I said. "But I'm not showing you without showing her."

"Fine," grumbled Alice.

Luckily, Livvy didn't take as long as we thought she might. She was over within five minutes of Alice, as curious as ever. She has steadily shown more and more interest in every James-related event in my life, thanks to her new belief in Alice's insane hypothesis, and I could tell already I was in for something mildly traumatic.

"Hey Lily," said Livvy upon Apparating on my bed as well. "What's the new development?"

"James sent me a Christmas present," I said. "I received it in the middle of dessert."

"Yes, yes, that's extremely fascinating, but what _was _it?" asked Alice impatiently.

Wordlessly, I gestured for them to follow me. We went in a little train downstairs to the kitchen, where Mum had left the vase. She greeted Alice and Livvy, wishing them a merry Christmas, and Alice helped herself to some pudding. Then we brought the vase out to show them.

To put it _very _lightly…Alice and Livvy were shell-shocked.

Alice immediately squealed and began thumbing through the deep green stalks, talking at top speed and allowing none of us to decipher what the hell she was saying. I showed Livvy the note first and while she was reading, Alice read it over her shoulder. Mum, sensing we needed a bit of privacy, smiled and disappeared upstairs, allowing my friends to have fits in peace. And fits they did have.

"_Lily Evans, do you have any idea what this __means_?!" shrieked Alice, her eyes bugging out at me, looking irresistibly like Vernon when he chokes on something at the dinner table.

"Apparently not," I said calmly. "Enlighten me."

She looks like she wants to explode.

"He's _in love with you_, Lily!" she shouted. "In _love_!"

"Lily, I don't know how you could dispute it this time," agreed Livvy, hardly any less excited. "Darling, I mean, he's pretty much said it all here. He's head-over-heels in love with you. He really does."

"Look, he's being sweet," I began.

"Oh, don't you try and wriggle out of this one," said Alice, frowning at me. "I can't believe you're actually trying to do so!"

"I'm just saying…he's being sweet," I said fairly. "He's being thoughtful. I would give you guys something like this, if I thought of the idea. I mean, they're flowers, not engagement rings. This doesn't necessarily mean anything at all…"

"Lily, denial can only take you so far," said Livvy with a sigh. "C'mon now. I know it's hard, but you need to buck up. I think he really fancies you."

"Honestly, Lils, just _look _at these flowers!" said Alice, showing them to me, waving the stalks around. "They're absolutely _gorgeous_!"

"Yes, they are, but I gave him some pretty damn nice socks," I reminded her. "He even told me they were really bloody comfortable – his words, not mine."

"James's sock fetish aside, this is something really _big_," Alice informed me. "These smell so bloody _good_." She took an enormous sniff of my bouquet. "I wonder where he got such nice flowers."

"I'm sure there are flower shops around where he lives," I said. "They're everywhere."

"D'you mind if I arrange those?" asked Livvy, eyeing the bouquet eagerly. "I love arranging flowers."

"Figures – you're so OCD, no one else's arrangements will do," grumbled Alice, stepping away from the vase.

Livvy scowled and took Alice's former place. "Yes, that's right," she snapped, lovingly stroking the plants and moving them around, organizing them. As she did so, Alice took the opportunity to start ranting at me again.

"_Honestly_, Lily, you are _so_ impossible," she said. "James Potter is one of the most eligible blokes in our year – no, our _school_. If he fancies you, what business do you have pretending he doesn't? It's like…I dunno, like having someone throw paint all over you and you telling people that it's only a tiny mark, nothing to worry about!"

"That's a rubbish metaphor," I pointed out.

"Yes, well, it's all I could come up with at a moment's notice, and that's not even the point," said Alice, irked. "Why are you so blind? It's not like he hasn't shown his hand or anything – because he has."

"Alice…" I was getting a little sick of this argument. "It is certainly in the realm of plausible events that maybe you are reading a little too far into this and misinterpreting truly platonic gestures. You've been hung up on our 'compatibility' for such a long time – maybe your brain is tricking you and you're so deep into your delusions, you can't see reason…"

As I was explaining this to her, Livvy gasped with surprise. I paused and looked at her, curious.

"What's up, Livs?" I asked.

"I…found something," she said, digging her hand deep into the vase. "Wait, wait, it's in here, I swear…"

"What'd you find?" asked Alice with interest.

Livvy put up her index finger to silence us – well, mostly Alice – and continued to search. We gave her about a minute to do so and our patience was duly rewarded – Livvy triumphantly held up a single rose from deep in the middle of the bouquet.

Alice and I stared blankly at the rose. It was a thing of true radiance, long and slender with the biggest mouth I'd ever seen on a flower. The color was absolutely beautiful, a pink so deep it was almost red, and I decided right then and there I would use magic to immortalize that rose. It was almost fake-looking in its brilliance.

"That's so beautiful," I said, reaching my arm out and taking the rose from her, fingering its fragile petals, its smooth stem. "Wherever did you find this, Livs? Are there more? James didn't mention roses in his note…"

"There was only one," reported Livvy. I almost didn't see it, but I caught a glimpse of reddish pink in the middle of the begonias and I decided to investigate."

"Isn't it gorgeous, Alice?" I asked, showing it to her. I waited for some sort of reaction – some indication that she had seen and appreciated the rose's beauty – but no such reaction came. I looked strangely at my best friend.

"What's wrong, Alice?" I inquired. Her eyes were as round as coins.

"It's just…wow," she said wondrously. "I was right."

"Right about what?" This was Livvy. Thank goodness I was not the only one who thought Alice had lost her marbles for good this time.

"About…everything," said Alice. She was getting excited now. "Lily, I…oh my gosh!"

"What? What?" It's never a good thing if Alice gets excited after a conversation like the one we'd been having. My urgency increased right along with her joy.

"I don't know much about flowers," said Alice, her tone full of barely-restrained glee, "but I _do _know what roses mean."

"Really?" Livvy was interested too.

"Yes," she said. "Frank and I found a book about them once in a shop, when we were younger. We had seen this guy give his girlfriend a rose and when Frank spotted the book, we decided to go look up what the meaning of a red rose was."

"But this rose isn't red," I said. "It's a weird pink-red hybrid thing."

"Yeah, exactly!" Alice's eyes shone with satisfaction. "A pink rose means friendship, but a red one means romantic love! I was _right_!"

"But I don't…" I tried to work out why this was significant.

Livvy, however, caught on much faster than me, and adopted some of Alice's apparently infectious enthusiasm. "Lily! Don't be such a dolt. What this means is, James's feelings for you must be in that weird place between friendship and romantic love – which means he is absolutely and completely attracted to you in _every _way!"

And this comment – this last comment – launched probably the longest, most complicated, convoluted discussion I'd ever endured in my life. And, seeing all the other contestants I have to choose from, that's definitely saying something.

For the sake of time and interest, I'm not going to go into the resulting dialogue between us three; but let me say this, it was highly uncomfortable and kind of cyclic, repeating itself, going a little bit, and revisiting the original idea one more time, kind of like a song. But it was so bloody annoying that I couldn't keep track for most of it, because Alice had about a million soliloquies.

Alice's refrain was: He loves you and the rose proves it! He loves you and the rose proves it!

Livvy's refrain was: The signs are hard to ignore. Alice is right. See above refrain.

My refrain was: Oh bloody hell, leave me _alone_!

It took me much longer than I would've liked, but I eventually managed to deflect the conversation away from James and reminded them that they had lives to lead – lives that didn't involve me _or_ James Potter. Livvy had Russell to entertain, Alice had her own family. Wouldn't they be wanting their companions back?

Reluctantly, Alice Apparated back off to her house, grumbling something about idiotic friends. Livvy followed suit, but her mood was much better, because she had Russell to look forward to.

Apparently, Russell had struck a home-run with Mr. and Mrs. Harris and was well-approved of – and his Christmas present to Livvy was a hefty make-out session in her bedroom, the first she had indulged in with him thus far. We spent a bit of time interrogating Livvy on the matter before Alice brought the subject back around to me and James and our non-existent relationship and to be quite frank, her story was much more interesting than mine. Too bad Alice didn't think so.

Once the girls left, my house was quiet once more. Mum and Dad were upstairs resting, because we are going to go out for a big dinner with friends and family later tonight, and Petunia is on the phone making her usual Christmas phone calls to her various friends. I was pretty much alone; but that worked for me.

I decided to take a leaf out of my parents' book and took a nap as well. When I got up, I was feeling better, so I came in here to write, do a bit of soul-searching, explore my feelings. I actually hate doing that – it makes me feel weird – but I guess today, it's worth taking a peek into my own subconscious, particularly after my grating debate with Alice and Livvy.

I guess the biggest thing about this whole ordeal – the one that gets me the most, more than James or his flowers – is really the fact that I don't seem to have a choice in the matter of my own quasi love story.

I mean, really. I have _never _had a choice.

When I sit here and seriously think back on all the times I've been with James, it's normally been because he approached me or he harassed me to the point where I needed a bit of payback. He never asked me if I enjoyed his constant attention, his inability to listen to a word I said, if I wanted him to buy me an exploding cupcake from Zonko's. He never asked me if I wanted him in my life. He just assumed I did and went along with it, because it suited his own fancies at the time. Nothing I said mattered to him. He only wanted the thrill of the ride.

Even now, I don't have a choice. My friends are convinced that he loves me and I love him and we're going to grow up, get married, and have twelve children. They talk to me like they are so wise, like they know exactly what's going to happen to me because they wished for it hard enough.

I don't want to be forced into anything. I don't want a current to come and take me away and leave me powerless. If that's the kind of relationship I'm doomed to have, I'm sorry, but I'd rather be alone than be with someone for the sake of being with them. I don't work like that, even if Alice and Livvy want me to.

I'm holding the rose he gave me, the one Livvy discovered inside the bouquet. I put a charm on it so that it would never dry out and it's really the most beautiful thing in the world. I'm thinking about using it as a bookmark in this journal, as a matter of fact, because it's lovely and it makes me smile when I look at it.

Now, I'm not saying there's any kind of mutual allure between us, as Alice and Livvy suggested, but I do want to say this…

If a romantic attraction does bloom out of the jumbled state of affairs our relationship is currently constituted of, and I do eventually decide to date him, I don't want it to be because I had two annoying voices screaming in my ears the whole way through.

If I date James Potter, I want it to be because I want to and I'm sure he loves me.

I am not about to let my friends run my life for me. Alice has Frank and Livvy has Russell. They have their own love stories to write. I prefer rough drafts in pencil, then final drafts in pen when I'm ready, myself. I've never understood girls who throw their hearts away simply because they want to be wanted.

I've had boyfriends, and I'm not a virgin, but I made those decisions on my own. I felt comfortable enough to let those guys get to know me in the most intimate way. And I don't regret it. That's the kind of thing I want here, too, regardless of who we were when we were young.

I guess what I'm trying to say is…screw Alice and Livvy. I'm letting this go where it wants to without any interference when we return to Hogwarts again.

For now, I am going to go freshen up. I think I hear Mum calling me and telling me we have to go out for dinner now with some family and friends at some restaurant and I have to look presentable.

Until later, then.

**11:30 PM**  
_Status_: Bloated

Am home now. Exhausted, bleary-eyed, fat. Please, small intestine, fail me not. I beg of thee. The food was too good. I couldn't resist thirds. Or fourths. It was _wrong_. I mean, it's Christmas, and when people in Africa don't have anything to eat, such a sin is unforgivable. Really.

O Christmas Miracle, relieve my stomach and let all this pass through my digestive tract tonight, for it is a holy night of wonder and I have been a good girl this year. Mostly.

Merry, merry Christmas.

But most of all…

Good night.

--

A/N: Excuse any typos you may have found. I have always hated proofreading with a burning passion, so I do miss things when I read through, and it's kind of late anyway. I just wanted to get this up before I went to sleep – which, tonight, will easily be two AM. I'm on a pre-school-time-wasting spree. At least I was being somewhat productive, instead of running around sugar-drunk.

Anyway, my mood aside…

Review button is right down there. You know you want to press it. Particularly because I'm going to school soon and you might not hear from me as often as we want.


	30. I Come Back to School Again

A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry for the wait on this one! My life has been insane in the past week. I just started junior year, I went to two Sweet Sixteen parties, attended a wedding, and had a couple of mental breakdowns along the way. Plus, my computer died – the one with EVERYTHING ON IT – but we had back-ups and I managed to keep everything I had started. I bought the new laptop last night and now I'm writing away again. All is well. But it just took forever.

Anyway, my ramblings aside, I know you guys are hoping for a post-rose LJ interactions, but for reasons soon to be explained, you shall not be getting it right away. Trust me, though, all right? When the conversation does come, I promise it shall please you muchly.

Bottom line – everything will be okay and I hope you like this bit. You guys are great.

Cheers!

--

January 6

**9:30 PM**  
_Status_: Exhausted

Well…now that I am safely back at Hogwarts after a hectic, stressful vacation, all I can say is, it's been a bitch knowing you, reality. Whoever said ignorance is bliss was clearly on to something.

Plenty has been going on since I last wrote. After Christmas, we had some family come to stay from Brighton – my mum has a couple of sisters who live down there – and Alice and Livvy where busy with their own lives to accommodate me if I wanted to get away. I don't resent them for it or anything, but it certainly wasn't so enjoyable to see the same old sights around Ipswich _again_.

New Year came and went fairly quickly. A few of Mum's friends had a huge party at a nice restaurant and we were forced to attend. I did have some Muggle friends there – Gina and Brandy and Karen and a few of their other friends – but they aren't Alice and Livvy and although I did have some fun screaming and blowing noise-makers as the next year rolled in, I did sort of miss being with them.

The days flew by after that, a blur of eating and sleeping and taking long baths. It was freezing out, so I spent most of my time indoors. Alice came over a couple of times, Livvy once, and we hung around together, talking and roasting whatever came to hand in my fireplace. Petunia preferred being out of the house with her friends while Mum attempted to spend as much time with me as she could, taking me out shopping and getting our nails painted and indulging in all the ways she knew how.

Leaving home at last was painful. I'm not about to hide that fact. Mum, Dad, and Petunia all came to the station to see me off and Mum got teary-eyed, bursting into tears on the spot, crying because she didn't want her baby girl to leave her. Petunia was quite uncomfortable with this public display of emotion and edged off to the other side of the platform after waving good-bye. Seeing Mum cry made me tear up a bit as well and I gave her a hug, telling her it was all right, I'd see her in April for the Easter holidays. Dad also hugged her and told her it would be all right, murmuring things I could not hear into her ears.

She calmed down eventually, her tears subsiding into hiccups as she told me, red-eyed, that she was being silly, she was sorry. But by that point, I was crying too, because I didn't want to leave her miserable, and I set her off again.

Dad let us cry for a minute or two, but then he told us to pull ourselves together. No one was trying to disown me or anything. I'm always welcome home when I want to go. Everything was going to be all right. Calm down. I could see he was tender about watching me leave again as well, but he was so level-headed about hiding it (he's always had more discretion than me) that I forced myself to shut up for his sake. Mum followed suit and we said a proper, smiling good-bye – despite the fact that mine and Mum's eyes were still kind of red.

Petunia and I carefully hugged each other good-bye as well and I escaped onto the train, attempting to shove my complicated feelings aside in favor of a light afternoon going back to school. Livvy was already waiting for me in an empty compartment – I will never understand why she is so preoccupied with being early – and Alice turned up about a minute before the train was supposed to leave. We were all delighted to see one another, even though we'd seen each other constantly during the holiday.

On the train, Livvy and I had quite a good time together, because we got our first opportunity to do the impossible – harass Alice about something!

See, for the entirety of the Christmas break, despite lecturing me until she was hoarse about my lack of appreciation for James Potter, my dear Alice has been having some love problems of her own.

On Christmas, while Alice divulged most of what went on in her household (presents, going out, being hyper etc.), she didn't tell us all of it. While we talked on the train again this afternoon, Livvy and I discovered the truth – that Frank and Alice had been in touch again after their disastrous London trip!

Here's how it all went down.

While we were sitting together on the train, Livvy was giving us some more detail on her relationship with Russell, which has blossomed even more after he met her parents over the break. She was bubbling over with excitement as she gave us every excruciating detail she could recall from their time together, and at that particular moment, she was talking about his Christmas present to her.

"He was _adorable _about it, he really was," she was fawning. "I mean, in the morning, he whispered in my ear that I would get my present later, and I said all right. Then, while I was at your house, Lils, he went and decorated my room with candles and flower petals and goodness knows what else and told me he loved me. And then he kissed me. A _lot_."

"Aww, how sweet!" fluttered Alice. She's a sucker for gestures like that. "That's so cute!"

"At least getting rid of everything was easy, now that we're of age and everything," I mused. "I mean, otherwise, flower petals are a bitch to clean up…"

Alice smacked me. "Oh, Lily, why are you so unromantic?"

"I'm being practical!" I insisted. "I mean, I've been cleaning up the Muggle way all my life – I know how much it stinks!"

Alice smirked. "It always depends on the present. I mean, the cake I got was pretty easy to clean up in a day or two…"

"You got a cake?" asked Livvy with interest. "Who from?"

"Fra—" And here she stopped dead in her tracks, suddenly realizing what she was saying. Alice has always been a rubbish liar and we could see her falter, invent a lie, and stutter, "Fra-a-anny! Yes, my Aunt Franny! Dear, dear Aunt Franny. She gave me a lovely Christmas cake this year."

"You don't have an Aunt Franny," said Livvy, narrowing her eyes.

"Yes I do!" squeaked Alice. "On my dad's side."

"You have an Aunt Lisa on your dad's side," I reminded her.

"Well, my dad has another sister named Franny and she generally doesn't keep in touch much, but we decided to pull a Christmas miracle this year and got a cake from her," said Alice.

Livvy and I exchanged looks and glared down at Alice together.

"Why do you even bother trying to lie when you know you're rubbish at it?" inquired Livvy.

Alice deflated. "All right, all right. I got the cake from Frank."

"I _knew _it!" I said triumphantly.

"Now what else about Frank are you keeping from us?" Livvy tends to be a little suspicious of Alice, mostly because Alice can be such a child at times. It takes a little bit of a push to get what you want from her.

Alice, sensing this, sighed and said, "Nothing _too _much. I mean, we did owl a little bit…"

"And you call that _nothing much_?" I demand, outraged. "I so much as sneeze around James Potter and it's suddenly breaking news! And you were hiding _messages _and _conversations _from us after that London incident? How dare you!"

"It wasn't anything monumental," Alice assured us. "I owled him my present with a little Christmas card and he owled back thanking me, wishing me a Merry Christmas as well, and the note came with a little Christmas cake."

"And did you owl again?" Livvy prompted.

"Of course – to thank him," said Alice.

"Anything else?" I prodded, taking Livvy's lead.

Alice considered. "Erm…he owled me back saying he missed me and he's sorry if I'm angry at him and he'll see me at Hogwarts."

Livvy and I nearly fell out of our seats.

"And when, pray tell, were you going to inform us of this?" Livvy questioned, her eyes flashing murder.

"Soon, soon," said Alice, looking nervous. "I mean, that was it. I didn't owl back."

"Oh, _Alice_," I groaned. "You are such a _dolt_, you know that? I don't think I'm the romantically-challenged one here – I mean, you preach to me everyday about the virtues of being open and honest, and then you refuse to answer any of Frank's advances!"

"I'm going to talk to him when we go back to school," Alice informed me daintily. "I just…needed time to make up my mind."

"Someone I knew once told me that the longer you wait, the more doubts you have, so go for it right away," said Livvy significantly.

"All right, so I'm a hypocrite," pouted Alice. "But with good reason this time! Frank is my best friend. I don't want to wreck what we've had forever with careless words when it matters most. I mean, I'm going to do something about it, but I wanted to wait until I could see him face-to-face at school, when I was ready."

"If Lily had tried to do that, she wouldn't have heard the end of it from you," pointed out Livvy.

"I know," she said. "But Lily and James are different – they are the love-hate-relationship-where-love-eventually-wins-out kind of couple. Me and Frank are the best-friends-who-find-feelings-for-each-other kind of couple. They have different rules."

"Nice save," I said with a snort.

"Honestly, though," said Alice, her brown eyes wide with sincerity. "I'm going to talk to him in school. I really, really will."

"And what are you going to say?" I asked. "I mean, he's made _his _position perfectly clear."

Alice chewed on her lip. "I've given this a lot of thought," she said, "and I've decided that I want to stay friends. I don't want to be a girlfriend. I've had enough of being people's girlfriend. It doesn't lead to anything good and I want my relationship with Frank to mean something more to me. So friends we shall have to stay."

"Oh, Alice," I groaned. "I take my other comment back – you aren't a dolt, you're a super-dolt."

"You're being silly, Alice," agreed Livvy. "Frank obviously means something to you and being his girlfriend doesn't mean you have to change how you feel about him. You already love him. Now all you're doing is making it official and coming closer together. You can do that."

"I've already made up my mind," said Alice obstinately. "I know what I'm going to do and you can't change my mind, Livs."

"But I can sure as hell try," retorted Livvy.

"Don't," said Alice. "There's nothing left to say."

And sure enough, there wasn't. Livvy sat back in a petulant silence and I turned my attention to the window, Alice's words whirling around in my head. Alice, being Alice, pulled out a book from her bag and began to read. We were all quiet and remained that way for a while, until the snack trolley came and we bought some things to share and nibble.

The rest of the ride back was fairly uneventful. It was pitch-black outside by the time we came in to the platform. Alice, Livvy and I, having slept for a considerable portion of our trip, trooped out quite cheerful, while other people looked dead on their feet. We three got a carriage together and rode to the warmth of the castle, which couldn't look more welcoming with its glowing golden windows, its familiar turrets.

We walked into the front doors and there were lots of people milling about, saying hello and exchanging holiday stories. We were going to go upstairs and crash, as we really wanted to, but there were two distractions that got in our way before we could do so.

The first came in the form of Frank Longbottom, right there in the Entrance Hall, laughing with a couple of Hufflepuffs I vaguely knew from somewhere. Immediately, I tensed, having seen him first, and I gave Alice a sharp jab on the arm.

"Hey," I said. "Look. There's Frank."

Alice peered about the crowd until she zeroed in on Frank. She seemed to freeze for a moment, then composed herself.

"Yes," she said innocently. "There's Frank. So what?"

"_So_…" said Livvy significantly, "shouldn't you go over there and talk to him?"

Alice went the slightest bit paler. "No," she said.

"But you said you would when we got to school," I reminded her, bewildered. "And we're here. At school."

"Well, yes, but I meant I'd talk to him when we actually had class," she informed us. "I mean, today is still practically vacation – it doesn't count."

Livvy and I had a major face-palm moment.

"Alice, you are too much," Livvy groaned.

"I am not," said Alice indignantly. "I'm keeping true to my word – I cannot be blamed for misinterpretations."

"Of course you can," Livvy pointed out.

"But I shouldn't," Alice insisted.

Livvy and Alice continued to argue this point while I got bored and made my way to the stairs, but on my way, my second distraction arrived. This time, it came in the form of Professor McGonagall.

"Miss Evans," she said, hailing me down. "I trust you had a good holiday?"

"I did, thank you," I said.

"I just wanted to inform you that the prefect's meeting for this month will be on Wednesday," she said. "Wednesday at six o'clock."

"Do we still need to patrol this week?" I asked.

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "The original schedule stands. You will be patrolling tomorrow, on Monday, with the others."

"Okay," I said, although my heart sank into the depths of my small intestines at her words. "Sounds good. Thank you."

McGonagall nodded and glided off to talk to someone else, leaving me sighing by the stairs in her wake. Alice and Livvy were still discussing misinterpretations and I wasn't in the mood for it. I wasn't much in the mood for anything – company or anything else. I'd see them later when I was feeling better.

I went upstairs to my dormitory and started unpacking my trunk, which had already been brought up for me. I sorted out all the familiar clothes, putting them in drawers, and I took a long shower in the bathroom. In a weird sort of way, this is more like home than my "real" home is. I mused upon that a little as I shampooed my hair, which was in dire need of some attention.

And now here I am, writing about all of this. My head is kind of whirling. Besides the Alice and Frank ordeal – which I am getting on her case about tomorrow, by the way – and the prefects and Livvy's relationship and whatever else I'm worrying about, James Potter has been on my mind for a while too.

I mean, honestly. Ever since Christmas Day, when he sent me that rose (which is currently my bookmark, as I said it would be) I can't stop thinking about him.

Even at this moment, writing my thoughts down, I can't keep the picture of his face out of my head. I didn't see him today – haven't since the day we left school for break – and I kind of want to, but I don't. I'm not sure how to thank him for his sweet gift and I'm not sure if I should bring up the rose in the middle.

I mean, regardless of what Alice says, it could just be a coincidence. It could have been an accident made by the florist. Mistakes happen. I refuse to believe this is a "sign" because James and I are _friends_. My friends are reading too much into this.

And yet…

Alice has had her moments when she proves to be right-on about her crackpot theories. Level-headed Livvy is usually right in most matters. Both of these girls think that he like me, and the way they say it, it could almost be a possibility. As much as I denounce all they say, I can't help but think…

Are they right? Does he _like-like _me? Does he want me in a way that he shouldn't? What if he does? What if he's thinking about me right at this very moment, wondering what I'm doing? What do I do then?

He's my friend, my close friend, and I know he trusts me, but the fact remains that I'm not sure how I feel about him. It's difficult to explain. Sometimes I want him to like me, but other times, I am so happy with our friendship the way it is and I don't want to rock the boat. It's all so dreadfully confusing. I have never known what I want. This time is absolutely no different.

I dunno. I'm extremely tired now. It's getting late. The rose issue is still bothering me, but I really don't have the energy to deal with it right now.

I think I'm going to go to sleep. It's been a long day. I'll write again as soon as I get the chance to.

Wish me luck.

'Night.

--

A/N: I've been sitting on this one for so long that I just finished it tonight with scant editing and slapped it up. I hope you liked it well enough and I promise the next update is going to be much sooner, and hopefully a little better.

Cheers!


	31. I Witness Another Love Story

A/N: I'm sorry to say it, but this chapter is a little more build-up. However, you will be very pleased to know that next chapter, I get to introduce a really fun side-story and the chapter after shall be more along the lines of what you're waiting for on the LJ front. I'm really excited – but for now, I hope this will tide you over.

Cheers, guys! You're wonderful!

--

January 7

**1:05 PM**  
_Status_: Giddy

Forget taking notes. Forget being responsible. Forget being whatever the hell I'm supposed to be at the moment.

This is big news. Hang History. Hang the rules. Hang everything. I am going to write what I want instead of taking notes on goblin rebellions and damn it, Binns had better learn to accept that.

It all started…well…this morning.

Today was a pretty normal day to begin with. We had our usual early morning routine – I didn't really get the time to open and assemble the new alarm clock that Livvy gave me for Christmas, which meant I slept in late, thinking it was still the holidays, and was awakened by the lovely sounds of Alice and Livvy screaming in my ears.

This is their new favorite method of waking me up. They think it's highly effective. I tend to agree – even if my ears _do _ring quite unpleasantly afterwards.

Once I was awake, we three went to breakfast together. Livvy decided to go sit with Russell, since she seemed to believe that four days without him was too much to bear, which left me and Alice together. We chose to sat by Mary, then, and she filled us in on the latest gossip, which we happily indulged in.

While she was talking, however, I happened to catch a glimpse of Frank entering the Great Hall – alone, which was kind of unusual. He appeared a little down, a little less vibrant, like a plant gone three days without water. At once, I bade Mary to give us a second and poked Alice in her side.

"Look," I said. "There's Frank."

Alice looked around and she, too, caught sight of Frank. Since she was sitting with us, so did Mary – and pretty much everyone (except Frank) knows that Alice has an enormous crush on him.

"Oh, yes, there he is!" she said before Alice could acknowledge our find. "He looks so sad, poor thing. Do you know what's going on there?"

"Yes, I do," I said significantly. "It's about an inch shorter than me and goes by the name of _Alice Prewitt_."

Alice rolled her eyes at me in a would-be-casual fashion. "Don't be ridiculous," she said. "It's the first day of classes. I'm depressed too."

Mary frowned. "I don't think so," she said. "What's going on between you two?"

"Nothing!" Alice insisted.

"Not _nothing_, certainly," I said. "Go on, go talk to him. You know he's waiting for you."

"You're his best friend," added Mary. "Maybe he'd tell you why he's upset."

"We both know why he's upset," I said. "It's all a matter of you going over there and _talking _to him, like you said you would. It's the first day of class now – what the hell are you waiting for?"

"The sky to fall?" suggested Alice very quietly, her features seeming to shrink slightly into her face.

Mary raised an eyebrow and looked to me. I considered the situation, looking from Alice to Frank and back, and decided that this was absolutely ridiculous. I told her so.

"Alice, you are absolutely ridiculous," I said. "You are going to talk to Frank and that is final. I can't believe you would do this to him! He's falling apart like this, and so are you, and it doesn't have to be that way."

Alice pouted. "He's fine. I'm fine. Relax, Lily."

"I will not relax," I insisted. "You keep getting on my arse about something that doesn't exist – now, when I get on your arse for something that _does _exist, that _does _have a chance, you choose this moment to be peevish. What is the matter with you? Go talk to him!"

Mary watches this exchange, helpless, as Alice fires back, "I will! It's just…now is not the right time and I don't want to screw this up!"

"So when _is_ the right time?" I asked almost nastily.

"Not now," retorted Alice. "Give me time, Lils."

"Time…it's a real luxury," I said. "One you haven't extended to me in quite some time."

"I told you, we're different," she said. "We have different rules. We are different people. With you, pressure is the only thing that gets you going. With me, I know what I have to do and I do it, but in my own way."

"You're a right cow," I informed her.

"And so are you, so I suppose we're made for each other!"

"What the _fuck _is going on here?" Mary finally demanded, her voice playing diffuser to our argument. "Can someone explain to me what the situation is? Maybe then we can figure out a way to do this."

"Where the hell is Livvy?" grumbled Alice, looking around for her.

"Livvy isn't here," I said. "She's out there, living her life and snogging a guy. Leave her be."

Alice sighed. "Fine. Mary, do you _really _want to know?"

"Hell yes," replied Mary.

"All right," she gave in. "But you have to _swear _to me that you won't tell anyone. This is confidential until I say so, got it?"

Alice has to be quite stern here. Mary is a notorious gossip and it would be too easy for her to spread the news around within the hour and have the whole school know in three.

However, Mary is perfectly serious as she said, "Yes. I promise."

"Good," said Alice. "Now here's how it all went down…"

Doing an admirable job of staying faithful to the original story she told us, she gave Mary a sparser version of her love saga with Frank. Mary was astonished, gasping at all the right moments; and when Alice was done, she immediately took my side on the matter.

"Lily is absolutely right – you're being an idiot," reported Mary. "Go up there and talk to him! I can't believe you haven't already done that!"

"I know, right?" I agreed. "See, Alice, even Mary thinks you ought to talk to him."

"And I do too," she said. "But not now."

"When, at your twenty-year reunion?" demanded Mary.

"Today some time," she said. "I promise. Just let me call the shots, okay? I'm still not sure what I should tell him."

"How about the truth?" I suggested. "That you're madly in love with him, always have been, always will be, and you've pined for a date with him since fourth year."

"I don't want to sound pathetic," she said. "I mean, we've been friends for five years now. He knows me. It's not like he's a stranger. I have to tell him tactfully, in a way he'll understand."

"Alice, I'm sorry, my dear, but you have all the tact of a blunt axe," I said sympathetically, patting her shoulder.

"I know," she snapped, "which is why I have to plan this properly."

"If I may add my two cents in here," said Mary, "but I do think that Alice is right in this case. Let her do it the way she wants, Lily, otherwise nothing is going to happen."

"See?" said Alice smugly.

"But Lily is also right," she continued. "Alice, you need to talk to him right away, so that he knows you're serious, and not just doing it because you pity him."

"He knows I wouldn't do it like that," said Alice, outraged. "You guys keep forgetting he's my best friend!"

"So he knows you care about him, and therefore makes you appear like you're sparing his feelings by telling him what he wants to hear," said Mary fairly. "The only way to bypass that unfortunate loophole is to go right away and tell him like you mean it."

Alice sighed and bit her lip. "Leave this to me. I'm going to get it done," she said.

"Excellent," said Mary. "Let's leave it at that. So, have you guys heard who Melina Prentice snogged over the holidays this time?"

"Isn't she going out with Roger Hamilton?" I asked.

"No, no, they broke up the day before we went on vacation," dismissed Mary. "Old news."

"Sorry," I muttered.

"I heard she was seeing Tyler Scott," said Alice.

"Yes! And she's snogging Michael Flemming on the side!" cried Mary. "_Scandalous_, isn't it?"

"Both of them?" I asked, aghast.

"Well, everyone knows that Prentice is a serial slut," said Mary fairly. "It's not exactly shocking, but _still_! I mean, Scott's liked her forever, and she had had a fight with Hamilton, so she snogged Scott, made love to him, and then went back to Hamilton. She likes Hamilton personally, but he's not as good for a kisser, apparently, so she's made both guys think they have a shot with her when she's only using them for gain – because everyone knows Hamilton is filthy stinking rich and gives his girlfriends lavish gifts all the time."

"Merlin!" said Alice wondrously.

"How do you know all this?!" I asked incredulously.

"From Emily Scott, the younger sister of Tyler Scott," she said airily. "Emily is friends with my sister, Jane, and Emily needed someone to tell – and she told me all about it!"

"You amaze me, Mary," I said. "Sometimes, that's not a good thing."

Mary laughed. "Relax. I mean, I'm just telling you guys. You're not going to tell anyone else, are you?" She gazed expectantly at us.

I sighed. "No, we aren't," I said. "But if this is how you treat people's insane dilemmas, you need to reassure us again you won't confide Alice's to anyone."

"It could get really embarrassing and he is one of my closest friends," said Alice.

"I won't," she said, giving us her wide, mischievous smile. "I promised you, didn't I?"

"Did you promise Emily?" I asked.

"No," she said delicately. "She didn't ask."

We all went silent at this proclamation, considering our options. When none of consequence arrived, I deftly changed the subject until we finished up breakfast in order to go to class. Alice joined in, appearing normal to the outside eye; but being her best friend, I could tell our conversation about Frank was still weighing heavy on her head.

We joined up with Livvy on our journey to first period and chattered away happily as we got into the classroom. Me and Livvy passed notes, since we sit next to each other, and I've taken the liberty of copying them here for archive's sake:

During lunch today, we sat with Mary and saw Frank looking utterly depressed. After discussing the matter, Alice insists she shall take care of it herself, on her own terms. I don't know what that means for us. Ideas?? –L

_Wow. Way to spring this one on me in the middle of class when I am clearly not well-equipped to give you a satisfactory answer.__ –O_

Well, if you weren't off being Russell's girlfriend, we wouldn't be having this problem. Just saying. –L

_Leave Russell out of this. Give me a minute to think about the situation and ask you more questions and I'll get back to you.__ –O_

Fine. –L

Finished? –L

_How exactly was Frank looking when he walked in?__ –O_

Depressed. –L

_That's what I'm asking – define depressed.__ –O_

Erm…his head was kind of hanging down a bit, his posture wasn't excellent, and he had this very basset-hound look to him – sort of punch-drunk, but not really. –L

_He could've been tired.__ –O_

No. Frank doesn't look like that when he's tired. –L

_Do you sit there and analyze it?__ –O_

Well, no… -L

_Then you can't say it with that much certainty__. –O_

Livs, you're not really helping the cause here. –L

_Well, I'm sorry if the truth is inconvenient for you, Lily.__ –O_

Whatever. So what do you think she should do about it? Either way, we know she has to confront him. –L

_Yes, but I think you should just let her be. I mean, I'm all for enlightenment and everything, but don't force anything on her. You hate it when she does it to you.__ –O_

But she always does do it to me. I need some revenge. –L

_This is not a pretty side of you, Lils. Put it away.__ –O_

Eurgh. Fine. You are horrible, by the way. –L

_All right, Lily. Whatever you say.__ –O_

The conversation was thus terminated.

Of course, with the nature of this confrontation, I couldn't really focus on anything besides Alice and Frank for the remainder of the morning. I kept giving her significant looks whenever she happened to glance at me or near me and I drove her quite mad, but I couldn't help it. I needed her to talk to him. I told her so after every period, until finally, she told me to shut up and began to ignore me.

Unfortunately for me, Livvy agreed with Alice on this one and decided to ignore me too. It was a group sanction against me, so that maybe my resolve would fizzle away and make me be quiet because I missed them. Like it was actually a punishment for me not to have my two best friends as my constant companions.

But, it was. And it worked. So I had to shut up, and I pretty much gave up on my fantasy that everything would happen today.

However…

When me, Alice, and Livvy were on the way to lunch, we happened to bypass Frank. He and Alice caught eyes for a second, and I could tell they totally had a Moment, right then and there. I nudged Livvy and the two of us melted out of sight, while Alice fell behind and approached her friend nervously.

Livvy and I went right to the Great Hall and started theorizing what could possibly be cooking in that corridor.

Our List of Theories

1. Frank is declaring undying love and Alice is fawning over the idea of having a real relationship.

2. Frank is performing a song-and-dance routine to win Alice's heart.

3. Alice is rubbing up against Frank and they are having a cozy, cuddly conversation together on the ground by the wall.

4. Frank and Alice have run away together, overcome by their amazing love, and are having a romantic run-around through Hogsmeade, being young and in love.

5. Frank and Alice, now that they have admitted that they are madly in love with each other, are tickling the stuffing out of each other. They are having an utterly lovely time giggling and frightening anyone who comes near.

6. Frank and Alice are snogging the pants off the other in the middle of a broom cupboard, overcome with passion. It is sweaty and awesome and full of grunts and they are making all sorts of clattering noises as they knock over pretty much everything inside with them.

We had a lot of fun fantasizing what could be going on in there. However, Alice didn't make it back for a good twenty minutes, in which time the world could've exploded, cooled over, and exploded again. By the time she was walking back into the Great Hall, kind of shaky with a goofy smile on her face, me and Livvy were ravenous for detail.

"So what happened?" I demanded as she sat down. "Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

"Geez, Lily, calm down," said Alice.

"Yeah, says the Queen of Calm herself," said Livvy rolling her eyes. "But I'm with Lily on this one. Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

Alice blushed. "You guys…"

"Don't test my patience," I said. "It would not be advisable on your part."

"Fine," said Alice. She cleared her throat and prepared herself to speak, taking her time to annoy us, most likely.

However, she did eventually settle down enough to say, "Right. So, as you know, we were walking down the corridor when I saw Frank. I could tell he wanted to speak to me, so I drifted his way and asked him what was up. Up close, he did look kind of depressed and I wanted to help, I really did. That's why I asked, 'What's going on?'

"He kind of looked at me like I was stupid and said, 'Alice, I can't do this anymore. What is going on between us? You won't talk to me. I thought we were friends.'

"The way he was looking at me was so…_intense_. I couldn't hide from him, even though I wanted to. So I said, 'I know and I'm sorry. But I don't really know what to say.'

"He said this could be easy. It didn't have to be awkward. I said of course it was awkward – he is my best friend in the world, besides you two, and he's telling me he's in love with me! It could potentially change everything, and not always for the better. I told him so and he shook his head at me, as though I was some moron incapable of intelligent thought in the face of conflict.

"'Alice, don't you get it?' he asked me. 'Nothing is _destined _to happen. It all depends on us and how we handle our emotions. We can make this easy and admit there are feelings between us that need to be addressed, or we can beat around the bush a little more, since that's what you seem to be doing. What do you want?'

"I was quiet for a few seconds, and then I said, 'I want you.'

"He kind of stared at me, like he was taking my words in and digesting them or something. My heart was beating really, really fast, like I don't even know what, and I had to force myself big-time to stand there and meet his eyes. But I did, and after a bit, he finally said, 'Well, I want you too.'

"My heartbeat came to a screeching halt and I swallowed, trying to get my bearings back. I mean, this was way weird – it's never happened to me. But I tried to be brave and I said, 'So…maybe we should give this a go.' He agreed and asked me if the next Hogsmeade trip was okay. I said it was and he gave me such a brilliant smile that I can't even explain it. It was…breathtaking."

It was only at this point that Livvy opened her mouth to interrupt Alice's tale. "Wait, so all of this took twenty minutes?" she asked. "What did you do afterwards?"

"I'm getting to that," said Alice with a grin. "See, after that, we sat down, right there in the corridor, and talked. It wasn't like this awkward boy-and-girl conversation we just had though – it was more like the ones we had before, when we were only friends. It was honest and open and wonderful and more like _us_ – about how I freaked out that day in London, how we passed Christmas, more about how we felt and other little things that went on during our breaks. I was telling him how my mother screwed up Christmas dinner – again – and he held my hand. We were probably going to spend the whole period there together, but Amos came to hunt Frank down and asked him to help with something. So Frank had to go and I…came back here."

She smiled nervously, waiting for our reactions to her news. However, I, for one, was totally speechless.

I mean, even though my list of theories with Livvy was awesome, it was nothing like reality – which, actually, was better because it was sweeter.

Of course, Livvy and I began immediately to ask for more particulars – the look on his face when she said she wanted him, more about their later conversation – and the whole thing felt so surreal to me. Alice was practically glowing with happiness, like Livvy had when she was with Russell, and I realized, during our interrogation, that now I was the only one in our threesome without a boyfriend.

Now, I know it's nothing to worry about – love is not something that can be rushed and it certainly isn't a competition – but at the same time, it's kind of weird. I mean, it's happened before where one of us has a boyfriend, or all three of us have a boyfriend, but it's never happened where only two of us have one.

It adds an imbalance to our little triangle, then – because two of us have people to see and the other one doesn't. The girlfriends are obviously sorry about this, and try to include the single girl, but it's clear they want to be somewhere else, and that makes things weird.

I'm happy for Alice. Of course I am. I've been the one who's wanted this to happen for the longest time – obviously, this means a lot to me – but I have to consider my own feelings too, and they're a little complicated. I hadn't anticipated feeling this way when I heckled Alice to talk to Frank, although maybe I should have. I dunno. It's still very difficult to explain.

But I do know one thing. I do want Alice's relationship to succeed, regardless of how weirdly I feel about it. I want her to be happy and I think Frank is the perfect guy for her, because he gets her in a way no one else ever can. He's known her for pretty much her entire life, after all.

The History period is almost over now. I can't believe I've been writing for almost the entire hour, ignoring the entire day's lecture. But I don't regret it. This was worth writing down and I can always copy the notes from Livvy – I'm sure she owes me from something or another. And even if she doesn't, I can always beg. That usually gets to her.

I'd better go. Everyone's packing up before the bell rings. I don't want to be late and I still want to talk to Alice and Livvy.

I shall write again as soon as I can.

--

A/N: I had intended to write a couple of other little instances for this chapter, but I decided to put them off for a later time – I figured Alice deserved her time in the spotlight, haha.

Cheers and please review!


	32. I Am a Secret Keeper Again

A/N: I'm super-duper excited about this chapter, to be very honest. There are two side stories I get to introduce that should be a lot of fun, and will weave throughout the rest of the tale. Plus, next chapter shall feature some stuff you guys will probably respond very positively to. Good things are beginning to happen, they really are, and I'm going to enjoy writing about it.

So, now that I'm done building myself up to a standard I shall likely never reach, I'll shut up now and let you go ahead. Please read, enjoy, and review – preferably in that order!

--

January 8

**Morning Check:**

Well, I've finally figured out how to work the alarm clock Livvy gave me. I set it up last night, feeling completely virtuous and motivated to get my waking-up routine perfected. However, in my haste to do so, I forgot to actually turn it on…which meant that Alice gave me some electric shock to wake me up and giggled while Livvy gave me another lecture about responsibility. What a failure.

**Other Goals Check:**

Pretty miserable, I'm sad to say. I have been eating like a pig since Christmas – don't ask me why, but I'm always hungry these days and I can't stop myself. Not good. I can feel the waistband on my skirt starting to get a tiny bit uncomfortable.

But, on the homework front, I'm more caught up than Alice is. I take great pride in this accomplishment and hope it shall continue forth this way. Livvy is going to field-marshal me into finishing my last Transfiguration essay tonight and I should be in business.

**1:00 PM**  
_Status_: Weary

Well, I guess that History has now officially become my writing-in-my-diary class. I just noticed that, as I pulled out this diary to write. I guess it's mainly for two reasons – one is that everything always seems to happen at lunch, which makes me too giddy to wait until after school to write. The other is just that it's too bloody easy. Binns rarely pays us any attention as he plows through his notes. It makes for a very nice wash of background sound as I happily space out.

Anyway. I digress. I have something important to write about – for once – and it's a matter of great importance. I'm kind of worried.

Because today I had a…visitor, for lack of a better word.

See, the epic haunt of Jonathon Sanders returned.

It happened today during – of course – lunch. I had excused myself from my table to pee and I was on my way down the corridor towards the bathrooms when all of a sudden, Jonathon turned the corner and almost walked right into me.

"Whoa!" I said, instinctively shielding my face with my hands. Initially, I didn't know who the runaway Bludger was. "Watch it there, I don't want either of us getting hurt."

"Sorry about that," said a highly familiar voice. "Good afternoon, Lily!"

I lowered my hands and tried not to look too disappointed to see Jonathon standing there, smug but eager, before me. It wasn't as hard as I thought to smile when I saw him, and he positively beamed back up at me.

"Hi!" he chirped. "I was hoping to catch you alone. Had a good holiday?"

"Erm, yes, thanks," I said. "And you?"

"It was all right," he said dismissively. "Nothing special though."

"Sorry to hear it," I said, because I had nothing else to say.

"It's fine," he said. "So…I was going to wait until the prefect meeting, but since I ran into you now, I figure this is as good a time as any…"

I was about to open my mouth and ask him what he was talking about, but he beat me to the punch, reaching into the pocket of his robes and pulling out a small box, wrapped in silver paper. Jonathon smiled at me as he shoved it into my hand.

"Belated Merry Christmas, Lily," he said. "I'll see you later tonight."

And, with another wide smile in my direction, he scampered, leaving me standing there with the little silver box, thinking, _oh __shit__!_

To be honest, I was thoroughly embarrassed. I mean, I didn't get him anything, and here he is, giving me a gift. It's like the scenario I was afraid of with James – only, this time, I'm the one who has to make the painful decision of how to respond to an unexpected present. Definitely a time to say, "Oh shit," and worry about what to do.

I brought up the issue with Alice and Livvy, because that's what I do whenever something – significant or otherwise – comes up in my life. They told me to open it before I start freaking out properly. I did and inside the box, I found a silver bracelet – it was simple, but beautiful for it, and I found a little lump in my throat. It wasn't due to a profound desire to retch, either, which is what usually happens when boys give me presents.

Here is a brief summary of ourr subsequent standpoints:

Alice

"Aww, that's so _sweet_, Lils! Look at that gorgeous bracelet! Obviously, he fancies you. It's so adorable! You should totally go out with him again. Just give him a chance! I mean, it wouldn't hurt you to have a little fun before the year goes out. He's a cute kid. Eek, this is so excited! You have a prospective love interest, Lily! Squee!"

Livvy

"While Alice is right in that Jonathon's little crush on you is cute – even sweet and adorable – I still firmly believe it needs to stop. You're clearly not interested and you need to find a way to get it into his thick skull that you are simply not interested in him that way. 'Having fun' usually ends in someone getting hurt and I think you ought to nip this in the bud before Jonathon _really _deludes himself."

Me

Of course, I tend to sway with Livvy's side of the argument, but Alice has a point too. He's annoying, certainly, but he's a harmless young child and it's not like I would snog him or have sex with him or anything. A couple of dates (and more cheesecake) wouldn't kill me and it would probably make his day; but, as Livvy said, I don't want to lead him on into a delusion that we are going to be long-term and it's mean anyway, because he genuinely seems to like me. So I don't know what to think.

And there it is.

Despite my confusions, though, I do know quite well that this current situation is a very delicate one. I'm wearing the bracelet he gave me right now, actually, but I'm not sure if I should. It could rock what little balance we have here.

But I do know that I need to do something. And soon. This has the potential of getting really ugly.

Wish me luck with that.

**11:00 PM**  
_Status_: Head whirling

Goodness. I didn't expect tonight to run so late, but it was a dreadfully busy day. I finished (most – okay, _some_ – of) my homework right after classes (ahem, after taking a _long _bath first) and had to run to the prefect meeting by six, then had dinner, then had patrol with James for an hour, like usual. I've only just got in and I'm bloody exhausted.

But, regardless of this, I am going to write. Why? Because tonight, there is a story to be told – and I don't dare fall asleep, because then all the details and nuances that are so vivid in my memory right now might go away. And that would stink. So I'm going to swallow my abundant fatigue and explain the events of the evening to the best of my ability.

Here's how it all went down.

The first order of business, post-homework, was the prefect meeting. I have never enjoyed them, but today, I was even less excited, because it meant having to face Jonathon again, and I was still wearing the bracelet he had given me. It was really pretty, so I didn't want to take it off; but at the same time, the implications of my wearing it in public (which he would undoubtedly notice) could be catastrophic.

Alice and Livvy were united (for once) by telling me to wear it anyway. If I like it, I like it. I shouldn't hide it just because I'm afraid Jonathon will think we're an item. (And, on a slightly unrelated note, Alice unearthed a box of Chocolate Cauldrons from somewhere and I am going to drop them off with a Ravenclaw in the morning, to give to him as a belated Christmas gift.)

Anyway, so once the clock showed I had ten minutes to six, I excused myself from the little homework corner my friends had created and unwillingly dragged myself to the prefect meeting. I got there just in time, and James had sweetly saved me a seat beside him, something he's taken to doing in the past couple of prefect meetings. Thankfully, Jonathon was seated a good distance from me and I was able to settle down next to James in peace, getting comfortable and calming myself down.

As the giant clock tolled the seventeenth hour of the day, I cleared my throat and said, "All right, guys…hope you all had wonderful holidays and I'm glad to see you all back and in good health."

"Our agenda's pretty flexible today," added James. "We can talk about whatever you guys want to talk about. Got anything?"

His hopeful plea was met with silence. The fifth years were _not _in the mood to talk and they did not hesitate to show us so. I turned a faint shade of pink and subsided, while James took one last ditch effort to inspire them to speak.

"You _sure_ you have nothing to say?" he asked. "I mean, we could talk about _anything_. It just has to be a group discussion."

"Well," said Annie Potent's familiar, somewhat pompous voice as she adjusted her glasses. "I did have a couple of opinions I would like to share, if you don't mind."

So grateful were we to have someone break the monotony of the silence, James and I happily accosted Annie Potent. I said, "Sure, go ahead. Say whatever you have to say."

"Thank you," she said. She rustled about the folders in her bag on the floor, going through some papers, until she came up with one particular sheet covered with her cramped, overly-neat handwriting.

She glanced over it once, and then said, "So, I had a couple of ideas on the detention policy here. See, the number of detentions increases at a rate of roughly 12.3 percent from November to December, as seen from the data Professor McGonagall gave me just after break, and I was thinking…"

And so it began. Annie Potent has become something notorious in these conferences as really the true leader of the group. She takes charge and finds detention statistics, something none of us particularly care about. Annie has taken over my job, as well as James's job, and everyone knows it; so the moment she launches into a speech about detentions, we quietly chill back and tune her out. Unfortunately, I am among this crowd.

The meeting seems to be going the way it always does – the various friends are gossiping, Jonathon is looking at me from the corner of his eye, I am playing word games with James.

However, for the first time ever, Annie Potent did something extraordinary, something none of us ever thought was possible:

_She captured our attention with an idea that we could actually get excited about_.

It came three topics after the detention thing. Annie, starting to sense that maybe she didn't have the audience's full attention on her, was getting self-conscious and talking softer as she said, "Well…another thing I was thinking of going to Professor McGonagall about was a bit of a petition for a school dance. We haven't ever really had one, and I think it's a great way for people in different houses to get to know each other…"

At this, the effect was immediate. Heads lifted, or turned towards her. Side conversations ceased. There was no longer a murmur of happy ignorance going around – we were attentive.

"What was that, Annie?" asked Kate Patterson.

Annie, so floored was she that someone actually showed interest in her idea, took a second before she stammered, "A-A dance. We should petition for a dance. Because it's a good social opportunity."

"Brilliant!" exclaimed Jonathon. "That sounds awesome, Annie!"

"I can help you write the petition, if you want," offered Mavis Robbins.

"I'll go with you to argue the appeal," said Will Stokely, raising his hand a little.

"We can plan it together, if you want," said Trey Miller.

"I'm sure I could get some help from Hogsmeade," James said. "That's a great idea, Annie. We should definitely work on that and pitch it to the teachers as a group."

"Sure," drawled Michael Fink, the Slytherin demon. "Why not?"

Poor Annie Potent was ready to faint at the sudden rush of vehement enthusiasm coming her way. However, she quickly recovered and began to get enthusiastic as well, joining in the fun.

"These are great suggestions," she said, taking charge like I never do. "Trey, I would love your help with planning, if we get permission. James, start talking to your contacts. Will, start coming up with a plan of attack when we argue the point – look at budget in particular, because that will be the main worry of the teachers."

"Get started on your jobs right away," I said, finally feeling guilty and stepping up. "This will be the first order of business next time we meet. We can't waste any time in making this happen. I will schedule the next meeting as quickly as I can and we should come up with our approach to the teachers then, not before. Is that all right?"

"Sounds great!" said Annie, utterly enthralled. "Let's do it!"

"Cool," I said. "This is really good, guys, I like this energy. Keep it up." I checked my watch. "It _is_ about time to go now, unfortunately, but we'll start right here – we're going to try and get a dance going this year, all right?"

"Oh, but please don't tell anyone yet," added James loudly, over the sounds of chairs scraping the ground and people beginning to talk animatedly. "We don't want too many people getting overly excited before anything happens."

"Keep your hairnet on, James, we'll keep it quiet," said Will Stokely with a lazy grin. "See you lot next time!"

"Patrol group, I certainly hope I'll see you after dinner?" I called out to their retreating backs.

No one responded to me, but I figured they heard me well enough, as I picked up my bag and pushed in my own chair. There was a lot of goodwill in the room, as we left, me going with James and scooting out before Jonathon could get a hold of me. It seemed that all of a sudden, we cared about each other, because we had a mutual goal we were intent on meeting. Maybe this is what McGonagall had wanted all along. I certainly liked being able to hear voices besides that of Annie Potent, myself.

I bid James good-bye and went to drop my bag off in my dormitory before dinner. Then I ate with Alice and Livvy. However, I was very true to James's instructions – I didn't breathe a word to them, although they would be the first people I told, when we have more progress on the project.

After dinner, I met James and the other prefects for patrol. We sent everyone else on their way and then began our usual route upstairs, on the sixth floor. Today, like yesterday and the day before, felt like any other patrol, the two of us meandering the halls and complaining about classes and homework.

But I can't deny that I did feel the slightest bit uneasy about that.

I mean, the way Alice and Livvy took our Christmas endeavor suggested that the Apocalypse was near or something. They thought it was monumental. Even I thought it was something of a landmark, something that showed tides changing – because James has never given me flowers before and I have never sent him a Christmas gift either.

So, if it means that much to us, how much did it mean to James?

Was he like me, freaking out over the whole ordeal and obsessively analyzing it with his friends? Unlikely as that sounds, maybe guys have their own secret procedures for girls, and they do stress about things like this. James did say that Sirius was the one who came up with the idea for the coded bouquet. Maybe they had brainstormed for hours with the rest of the gang to come up with the perfect gift before Sirius had a brainwave. It's fairly plausible, actually.

Then, with all that planning, is it such a stretch to suggest that maybe, just maybe, he was feeling as uneasy about it as me?

This seemed to be the scenario between us. For the past couple of days, we have talked about a lot of things, but we have not asked about the other's holidays.

Alice would call me a coward if she knew about it, but I can't bring myself to ask him about it; because if I did, he would most likely bring up Christmas Day, and his presents, and he would thank me for the socks, which would mean that I would have to thank him for the flowers, he would say I'm welcome, he would tell me about them, and the conversation could get really awkward.

But, while I haven't said anything, neither as he. He's usually the fearless one – it would be very easy for him to ask me how my break was and expect an answer – and yet, he hasn't broached the topic either.

Now, this could be because he simply forgot – unlikely – or it could be because he's as mortified as I am about expressing concern nonverbally over the space of many miles.

Which could mean that…

No. I'm not going to say it. He could just be mortified because he thinks flowers are girly or something. I dunno.

Anyway, I digress. So, all these thoughts whirling through my head, we went about patrol in our usual way, merrily abusing the heinous dementor essay we were supposed to write for Defense. It was as comfortable as ever, him cracking jokes and me defending the assignment while still giggling.

However, near the very end of the patrol, James Potter changed everything.

He paused after finishing a funny story about slipping Remus spiked pumpkin juice during breakfast the other day, and said to me, "So…thank you for the socks, Lily. I've been meaning to tell you that in person."

My heart skipped a beat. The whole freaking-out-about-the-Christmas-present issue weighed down my guts like an anvil. _Bloody hell_. I swallowed and dared myself to answer.

I won the dare. I said, "You're welcome, James. I'm glad you like them."

"They're really warm," James replied with a grin. "I'm wearing them right now. See?" He lifted up the hem of his robes and tilted his ankle to give me a better look. Indeed, there were the green ones I'd bought to accent his eyes, and I couldn't help but giggle.

"Yes, there they are," I said. "Well done."

He beamed at me, and was silent, so I figured I ought to face the idea I feared the most. With as small a deep breath as I could manage, I said, "And thanks for the flowers, James. They were absolutely beautiful."

"You liked them?" He looked entirely too pleased about it – and relieved. "That's great – Sirius insisted I should've picked different colors."

"No, no, they were fine," I assured him. "I loved them. Really."

I smiled earnestly at him, somehow glad that we'd finally gotten these awkward sentiments out in the open. Merlin bless James for always being the fearless one. But the look he gave me afterwards, for just a couple of seconds, was odd – like he was searching me for something in particular, and I wasn't sure what he wanted. For a scary fraction of a second, I thought he was going to bring up the rose, but he didn't and neither did I and the moment passed, leaving us unscathed. I took a breath.

"So how was the rest of your holiday?" I asked.

"Oh, it was brilliant," he said. "The guys came over and I went to them and we basically rotated between houses. We had a blast and Christmas dinner was at my place."

"Sounds cool," I said.

"What about you?" he inquired politely.

"Nothing special," I said. "Just…you know, hanging around the house, being with my family, seeing Alice and Livvy. The usual. I wanted some time for sanity, you know? We're far too busy here, with N.E.W.T. exams and everything."

"Yeah, I know," he said rather resentfully. "I hate exams. I mean, I don't see the point of weighing your whole future on a few sheets of carefully colored paper. It's awful."

"But how else are they supposed to measure your progress alongside everyone else? They want to know how much you've learned – it's a necessary evil," I pointed out.

"No way," said James. "They ought to take our grades from class – which we worked bloody hard for, may I add – and live with it. We did the same things then, too."

"But an exam is all-encompassing," I said.

"And why is that significant?"

"Because there needs to be a standard!"

"Standards are bullshit," announced James.

And from there, we went into another one of our many random debates, this one about standards. I argued vehemently that they were necessary and James argued just as vehemently that they weren't. It wasn't a vicious bloodbath or anything, but it was a heated discussion between two friends that gave us something to do for the remainder of the patrol.

By the time we were through, we had finally decided to agree to disagree, because we were both too stubborn to stop shoving our point down the other's throat, but also too stubborn to yield as well. No one was going to win, so we subsided and went up to the dormitories content, giggly.

But things changed again when we got upstairs.

I decided, since James always walked me to my dormitory and then went to his own, it would be a nice change if I walked him to _his _dormitory before returning back. I offered once we reached our corridor, thinking this was a very nice gesture on my part, considering our argument, when James suddenly said no.

"No?" I was rather offended. "Well, why not?"

"Because…your dormitory is right there," he said, kind of lamely. "There's no point in you taking a longer trip."

"But…it's only a few extra steps, not a trip down the Great Wall," I said, my hurt transitioning into bewilderment. "And I want to. Why don't you want me to?"

"It's impractical," he said. "This is so much easier. Go to bed, Lily. I'll see you tomorrow."

Something about his hasty manner and avoidance of my eyes – that boy is too vibrantly obvious to keep a proper secret – quickly piqued my interest. I wasn't about to let this one go now, seeing his behavior.

As he was about to flee the scene, I put my hands to my hips and said, "Wait right there, James Potter."

He halted, as commanded, and wheeled around to face me, looking utterly guilty. "Yes, Lily Evans?" he asked, with a futile attempt at his usual cheek.

"What's going on here?" I demanded. "Are you keeping something from me?"

"No," he said most unconvincingly. I arched an eyebrow and he amended, "Okay, okay, I…I sort of am. But it's not entirely my secret to tell."

"I want to know," I said firmly. "I'm…_me_. I won't tell anyone, even if it's something illegal."

"I can't," he said, his eyes pleading me to please let this one drop. But I wouldn't.

"I'll have to assume the worst if you don't tell me," I said.

James looked mighty uncomfortable, standing there like an awkward little boy with his hand in his hair, his expression a bit guilty. He could've been caught stealing from the cookie jar with how pink his face was. I'd rarely seen him this embarrassed, which really only intrigued me more.

Finally, though, he gave in.

"Fine," he said. "Because it's you."

"Well then, what a great day to be me," I teased, grinning broadly. "Show me!"

"But you have to swear to me you won't tell a soul," he said.

"Are Alice and Livvy okay?" I asked.

He considered. "Only if absolutely necessary," he allowed. "I'll trust your judgment on that."

"Great!" I chirped. "Now show me!"

James sighed. "You are more manipulative than I ever gave you credit for."

"Stop stalling," I said, giving him a little shove so that we walked towards his dormitory. "I want to know what's going on."

He gave me a deeply reproachful look, but I knew he was half-kidding and therefore ignored it. We walked to his portrait and James said his password to open it, allowing it to swing open and admit us. As we began to walk in, I heard a yelp from the bathroom.

"I hear two sets of steps, what's going on?" asked Sirius's voice.

"It's me and Lily, Padfoot," called James.

"Lily?" Sirius appeared astonished and a little annoyed.

"She wore me down, mate, I'm sorry," said James.

"I told you not to bring anyone," Sirius whined. "But, well…seeing as it's only Lily, I won't kill you. Come in, but keep your voices down, I don't want a fiasco in here."

Highly interested in the situation now, I followed James carefully towards the bathroom. However, since I was here for the first time, I did take a look around the dormitory, wondering how James kept house.

Apparently, he wasn't very good at it – our dorms are twins, since we're Head Boy and Girl, but his had clothes and sweet wrappers everywhere, the pervading smell of mud and grass (most likely from his ardent Quidditch playing) and books sitting half open in random places. I wrinkled my nose a little, but reminded myself why I was there and returned to my quest for the bathroom – which I was kind of afraid of finding, considering the state of the main room.

But I needn't have been worried. The bathroom was in fairly decent condition – and, on the edge of the bathtub sat Sirius Black, holding a jet-black cat, with huge, penetrating emerald eyes and a gray spot around his right eye.

I blinked a couple of times. This couldn't be happening.

"Hi, Lils," said Sirius cheerfully, petting the cat's head and rubbing it between its ears. "Meet Napoleon."

He held the cat out to me. James kept grinning at me as I stepped forward, feeling surreal and uncertain, accepting the cat and holding it in the crook of my arm, like a baby. The cat nuzzled my skin and mewed contentedly. It was kind of cute, but I was still kind of in shock. I looked up at the amused James and Sirius, confused.

"How did you get a _cat _in here? And why?" I asked.

"See, during the holidays, James and I were roaming around London a lot of the time," explained Sirius. "While we were in some park, we saw little Napoleon being obnoxious to birds and scaring them away. He didn't have a collar and seemed to be abandoned, so we took him in and fed him at James's house. He was so lovely we decided to keep him and named him Napoleon, because he was mean to the birds."

"We brought him here because Sirius couldn't bear leaving him behind," added James. "So we're keeping him in my dormitory, so that no teacher finds out and makes us send him away."

"We're all he's got now," said Sirius, making goo-goo eyes at the cat in my arms, who mewed.

"He seems to have taken a fast liking to you, Lily," noted James. "He took to Sirius as well, but it took him longer to get used to me."

"I know," said Sirius, chuckling. "I was the one who picked him up at the park – he hissed at James."

"But now he likes me," James reminded his friend.

"So…this is the big secret," I said. "You couldn't bear to leave your cat, so you brought him along?"

"Yes," said James.

"How on earth did you smuggle him into the castle?" I asked, my mind still boggled by the idea that Napoleon was _here_, so close to where I was.

"It's a long story involving a little blackmail, a few charms and jinxes, and a lot of lying," said Sirius. "Are you sure you want to be a part of that?"

"Good point," I muttered. "Here." I handed Napoleon back to James, who handed him back to Sirius, who started the bath tap.

"I was actually about to give him a little bath when you came in," he told me. "Want to help?"

"I'm good," I said. "But…you guys can't be serious about keeping him here. Someone's going to find out."

"If you keep your pretty little mouth shut, we shouldn't have an issue," said Sirius cheerfully. "We've done lots of weird things around here that haven't been detected. You just have to be stealthy about it. We can trust you with this, can't we?"

The boys looked at me expectantly. They really did want to trust me with a secret that could have disastrous consequences if it was to be discovered. The earnestness in their faces was almost too much to bear – not to mention Napoleon's intense glare, with eyes that were the same color as mine.

With the three of them looking at me the way they were, I was a goner and I knew it.

I nodded.

"Yes," I said. "I will keep your secret. Napoleon is now my responsibility as well as yours."

"Great," said James, pleased. "Thanks, Lil."

"No problem," I said.

"We really appreciate it," Sirius said, giving me a dazzlingly sweet smile. "You're a good listener. And a good secret-keeper."

Despite myself, I felt the blush rise in my cheeks. "It's no trouble," I said, "but I really have to go. It's been a long day and I want to get some rest."

"Hey, go ahead," said Sirius. "We're going to crash too, once Napoleon's clean."

"Good night, Lily," said James, waving at me. "See you in the morning."

I waved back and departed his dormitory for my own, not bothering to change my clothes as I jumped into bed and pulled out this journal. My head is still kind of insane after the weirdness of this evening. I mean, a _cat_, of all things! McGonagall would likely have a fit if she knew. They will really have to be careful – and of course, I won't breathe a word about it either.

Merlin's beard, I feel like I'm keeping a lot of secrets right now. With the dance, and Russell, and now Napoleon the cat, I'm starting to feel the slightest bit dishonest.

But I'm doing it for my friends, aren't I? They trust me. We all have things we would rather others didn't know, and I have people in my life who see me as a good enough person to keep such things quiet. That's a good thing, an honorable thing. But still…it does get to be a bit much.

Well, that being said, I think it's time to go to sleep. I'm yawning between every other word and I can feel my eyelids drooping. It's past midnight and I want to get a few hours of sleep tonight. I have another long day ahead of me, plus homework with Livvy. Joy.

I'll write again soon.

'Night.

--

A/N: And there you have it! Another chapter. And don't worry - Napoleon the cat will make more appearances as time goes on, and Annie Potent will argue the school dance to the best of her abilities. It should be fun.

Next chapter is some L/J stuff, which I think you'll like.

Now then, I have a disclaimer here - I wrote this in the morning before school, and didn't really feel like doing a heavy-duty editing job. Typos are to be expected. Please don't let them distract you though. I'm only human.

Cheers, guys, and please do review!


	33. I Receive Terrifying News

A/N: Most of you totally caught my epic blunder in the last chapter – cats _are _allowed at Hogwarts, which was an oversight on my part, because my brain tends to be a bit of a dolt at the best of times. Apologies, apologies.

But, for the sake of not changing my outline, we are going to hereby assume that the rule for allowing students to have cats has not yet come into place. This is a good long time before Harry went to Hogwarts – it can be possible. Again, I'm sorry to change the rules of Hogwarts because of my laziness, but I just don't want to change my outline – Napoleon's forbidden-ness kind of just works right now with what I want.

Still, thanks a billion for letting me know about the whole thing, and I'll do my best to avoid any more of such errors.

So, without further ado…something somewhat fluffy! Cheers & enjoy!

--

January 10

**11:00 PM**  
_Status_: Wondrous

I didn't intend on writing today – there's been too many things to _do _rather than write about them and it doesn't help that I'm bloody exhausted at the moment – but this needs to be written about. This needs to be pulled apart and dissected and analyzed, because I don't know what's going on here. It feels like I'm losing something I thought was in my control.

It all started this morning, during breakfast.

I was sitting with Alice and Livvy, as usual, and Livvy was attempting to explain (kindly) why Alice's Transfiguration essay sucked balls. I was giggling and sipping at my orange juice, as per usual, when the owls started coming in to deliver post.

Generally, I don't get a lot of mail, so I was extremely surprised to see George, my owl, flying towards me with a letter in his beak.

He landed at the table, almost knocking over the flagon of orange juice (he's almost as clumsy as me, which is another reason why I love him so much) and I took the letter from him. He gave me an affectionate little nip on the finger, stuck his beak into my juice, and flew off. Alice and Livvy temporarily forgot about Alice's essay and looked at my letter with interest.

"Ooh, who's that from?" asked Alice, craning her neck to get a better look.

"I dunno," I said. "It looks like it's from my mum."

I fumbled with the seal and finally opened the paper inside. It turned out that the letter was not from my mother – it was from Petunia.

This was very odd, because Petunia has never sent me a letter at Hogwarts before. The school has a way to get Muggle letters to the students, but Petunia usually ignores it. This must be important. I quickly scanned the letter to see what it said. It was very short.

_Dear Lily,_

_Vernon and I had a long conversation with Mum and Dad yesterday. We talked about wanting to be married in the near future. After a lot of negotiating, Mum and Dad have agreed. Vernon and I are going to have the wedding next summer. I just wanted you to know. Thanks for keeping my secret for me._

_Petunia_

I had to reread it a couple of times to take it in. I could feel the shock in my face, in my stomach, everywhere. I was struck dumb – it felt like someone had dropped an anvil on my intestines.

When Petunia brought up the idea of marrying Vernon, I didn't think she was serious. I didn't think it was going to actually happen. I put too much store in Mum and Dad saying no, or making it happen in a hazy, long, unspecified future. But next summer! That's too early to have a brother-in-law – particularly one I like so little. What were they thinking?

However, as my personal universe seemed to rip apart at the seams in front of my face, Livvy brought me back to the world of the living by innocently asking, "Hey, Lils, what's going on? What does the letter say?"

My head jerked back up and I saw the girls watching me, unsure of how to react. They were concerned. I really should tell them what Petunia said to me. They _are _my best friends, right? They, of all people, deserved to know.

But I said, "Oh, it's nothing. Petunia's just being an idiot, as usual."

"You sure?" asked Alice. "You looked like you were forced to swallow acid."

"I'm fine," I assured them – and myself – with a smile as convincing as I could go. "Don't worry about it. So, Alice, about your conclusion…I think you need to reinforce the topic a bit more, you just sort of skated over it."

I was determined to change the subject, and my friends, while suspicious of my behavior, played along for the time being. Livvy started suggesting a better topic sentence for Alice's conclusion and I tucked my letter away into my pocket, getting that sinking feeling in my stomach all over again.

I know perfectly well this is a good thing for Petunia. I know perfectly well that I ought to be very happy, because my sister is happy and has found someone she wants to spend the rest of her life with. I know perfectly well that I am being ridiculous in my reaction to this news.

But at the same time…I couldn't help feeling absolutely miserable.

It seems like the whole world is in love at the moment. Frank and Alice have their date coming up, but they are already acting like a couple, with Frank poking Alice every time he sees her in the corridor, tickling her every time they debate something stupid. They're ridiculously cute together – there's something magical about how widely Alice smiles when Frank is around, how sweetly Frank coos her name when he greets her with one of his bear-hugs. It makes me wonder why they didn't think of dating earlier.

Meanwhile, Livvy and Russell are still going heavy and hearty too – Livvy is doing her best to be balanced, like Alice and I have been pleading for her to do, but that still doesn't stop her from randomly jumping on him in the evenings, kissing him in the common room, and disappearing with him during our trips to Hogsmeade.

My best friends are always off with their boyfriends, while my sister is now getting herself _married _– bound forever and always to Vernon Dursley. I mean, Petunia Dursley? That's so _wrong_. She's always been and always will be Petunia Evans to me.

With all these relationships going around, I feel kind of lost. I know it's completely irrational, but when it seems that every other person is someone's girlfriend/boyfriend, it's not entirely surprising that I feel weird, defective in a way. Why is it that I'm always the one with a crap boyfriend I have to break up with? Why can't I have a relationship like Alice's or Livvy's? Is it so wrong to want to be in the loop about why being a girlfriend is so great?

My murky thoughts kept me company for most of the day, as I floated from lesson to lesson. Mind, I had plenty to keep me busy on the surface, but I could feel Petunia's letter in my pocket as though it was a twenty kilogram weight holding me down. I was visibly down – Alice kept interrogating me on hers and Livvy's behalf throughout the day – but I didn't want to share it with anyone. It's pathetic to be resentful of your sister's husband-to-be. I didn't want anyone, not even my friends, to know I was that pathetic.

By patrol, I was like a balloon that has finally bled out all its helium through a single, tiny puncture wound. I wasn't in the mood to be anywhere, do anything. I just wanted to be alone in my dormitory, detached from my world and the responsibilities that came along with it.

But, as ever, I didn't do what I wanted. I did what I was supposed to do and I went to patrol with James.

It went as casually as it ever did, with us talking, but he could tell I wasn't really into it tonight. He kept it going for a few minutes, hoping I'd get over whatever was bothering me; but when I didn't, he gave up the pretence and asked, "Lily, are you all right?"

"Yeah, yeah," I said moodily.

"C'mon, I know you well enough by now to figure out when you're not being yourself," said James, giving me a Look. "Tell me. What's going on?"

"It's nothing," I told him, like I'd told Alice and Livvy. "Honest. I'm just being an idiot. As usual."

"Self-bashing…this is interesting, I've never seen it before in you," he noted. "This must be really eating you up. You ought to tell someone about it – preferably me."

"No," I said. "It's silly. It really is."

"You let me be the judge of that," said James. "C'mon now, tell me about it. You've got me curious now."

Despite myself, I kind of smiled. "You'd better get over that curiosity, then, because I'm not telling you."

"Why not?" he protested.

"Because it's silly," I repeated. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with me. I'm blowing something very small out of proportion."

"So instead of allowing it to drown you in misery, why don't you unload it?" asked James. "I mean, Sirius whines about all sorts of moronic things everyday, and we listen because if we didn't, he would go more barking mad than he already is. And I bet his complaints are much more trivial than yours."

His hazel eyes were too earnest for his own good, as he stared beseechingly at me. He could be dangerously charming when he wanted to be. Thankfully, though, I was probably the most immune to his charms out of all the people in this castle.

"No," I said. "I'm fine. Drop it."

"I most certainly will not," said James, affronted.

"Why?"

"Because I want to help," he said. "And your constant refusals to tell me what's going on have only intrigue me more. So do us both a favor and tell dear Jamie what's going on with you."

He fluttered his eyelashes at me and I giggled. He seemed to take this as a victory and continued to do it, perfectly willing to be a clown if it meant getting what he wanted. I did laugh, but I shook my head, feeling even sillier than I had before.

"No," I said. "Please don't make me tell you. Building it up like this is only going to make me feel worse."

At once, he stopped being an idiot; and, almost as if he had flipped a switch, he became dead serious, looking me in the eye with startling intensity.

"Lily, do you trust me?" he asked.

I swallowed and forced myself to look him in the eye. Did I trust him? Or, rather, did I trust him enough to bleat on about something as unreasonable as this?

I took in the sight of his face and remembered when he told me about Sirius, about Napoleon. I remembered when he sent me those flowers and when we freaked out about a random lizard. I remembered seeing him comfort Kate Patterson so sweetly when her boyfriend cheated on her, after that prefect's meeting.

He trusted me. He proved that he thought me worthy of being let into his intensely private world. I figured I could start to reciprocate a little and let him into mine.

I took a breath and said, "Yes. I trust you. And I want to tell you about it now."

Some of the humor came back to his face as he grinned at me and said, "Really? Awesome, I didn't think that would work."

In spite of myself, I chuckled. "You're insane," I said, kind of admiringly.

"I know." He grinned wider. "Here, c'mon, let's sit down and talk. I'm not in the mood to patrol tonight anyway."

"Good plan," I said.

Still grinning, James said, "Let's go there."

"Okay."

The two of us crossed the corridor and sat down together on the ground against the wall, sitting beside each other but not touching. I could feel his warmth emanating off of him and he felt so solid; so human; so _there_ for me. He had some weird way of making people feel so comfortable to be around him and right then, I felt like I could give him the world.

"So what's up?" he asked.

"Well…I got an owl this morning," I said. "My sister is engaged to her boyfriend of about three years."

"Wow," he said. "How old is your sister?"

"She's a year and a half older than me," I said. "Her name is Petunia. The boyfriend's name is Vernon."

"I see," he said. "So did you know it was coming? Like, could you tell they were getting close to that stage?"

"Yes," I admitted. "Petunia told me the day I came home for the holidays. But she hadn't told my parents yet. Now, apparently, she has and they approve. She wants to get married next summer. Or, rather, this summer."

"Really? That's interesting," said James.

"It's not," I said suddenly, with such conviction that I surprised even myself.

"Why not?" he inquired, calm but still curious.

"Because…because I don't _want _her to get married!" I all but exploded, with such sudden and powerful passion that we were both startled. "Because she's my big sister and not some moron's wife! Vernon is a horrible, self-centered, obnoxious man and he could never love her properly, even if he wanted to. I mean, I know Petunia and I have our differences – she kind of hates me because I'm a witch and she thinks I'm a freak – but she's still my sister and I still care about her and I still don't think she's being smart about the whole thing! She's far too young, she's too good for him, and I don't want to lose her. It's not right. It can't be!"

"You're not losing her, though, Lily," he said. "She's still your sister. She's just found someone who makes her happy."

"I _know _that," I sobbed. "I know I'm being utterly irrational, and this should be a good thing for me, as it's a good thing for her, but I can't get over it. I don't want her to get married. Everything's changing too fast and I don't want her to go."

"I know, I know, life seems to be galloping away with us now," said James sympathetically, nodding slowly. "It's like, we're _adults_. We're going to be leaving school and starting our own lives. It's such a scary thought. I feel like I don't know the first thing about the world."

"So do I," I said, touching my eyes and finding tears. "I am so confused, and lost, and I don't want to leave either. I want…I want us to stay the same. I don't want Petunia to go away. I love her too much."

"None of this is easy," said James, "and I certainly don't think you're being silly about it. It's a legitimate fear – your universe isn't the same anymore and you just want to get control of it again. I understand. I think we're all going through that."

"Marriage is something older, wiser people do," I said. "Petunia isn't old and wise. She's just Petunia. She's not ready for this."

"Maybe not, but maybe it's a chance she wants to take," pointed out James. "Maybe she is scared to death, but she knows she wants to take that first, scary plunge at Vernon's side."

"She's not ready," I repeated, my lower lip trembling and my stomach starting to hurt. "She isn't. I know she isn't."

"Maybe…maybe you're the one that isn't ready," he said, surprisingly gentle.

I pursed my lips. "No, I'm not – and that's what's so horrible. I should be. It's not even my decision."

"No, no, you're not being horrible," he said at once. "You're being human. It's a big step for your whole family, watching Petunia get married. Of course you're going to have some complicated feelings about it, and that's okay. It's scary right now, but it's going to get better. You'll get used to the idea. I'm sure of it."

Somehow, as he spoke, I felt like the anvil in my intestines lifted a little bit, lightened the load sitting in my body. He seemed to know exactly what to say and he made me feel better, a little less pathetic. It was like he understood exactly what I was going through, but I knew he was an only child. I guess he was that good at empathizing with people.

We were silent for a few seconds, me wiping away a couple of stray tears that escaped my eyelids during our conversation. Then I said, "Thanks, James."

"Hey, no problem," he said easily. "It really helps to have an objective point of view on a personal issue, because I don't have the same emotional strings as you do and I can help you see everything more clearly, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," I said. "You're a good listener."

"Really?" This seemed to amuse him. "I might need you to testify that in front of Moony some time. Don't be surprised if I ask you to."

I chuckled. "Stop being an idiot. You really are a good listener. You're too hard on yourself."

He gave me a dazzling smile. "Thanks, Lil…y."

This puzzled me. "Hey, you can call me Lils if you want to," I said. "You don't have to stick with my full name if you don't want to."

"Okay, Lils then," he said, clearly pleased. "I just…wasn't sure, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," I said, blushing. "You're fine, don't worry."

"Good," he said, now giving me a half-smile.

We were silent a few more seconds, sitting together on the ground, mulling over our conversation one more time. I had a slight tummy-ache still, but I was definitely feeling better. I half-considered putting my head on James's shoulder – don't ask me why – but the impulse was quickly stifled when James surprised me by speaking.

"You know," he proclaimed, "I want to get married."

"You do?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "I think I do."

"That's kind of random," I said.

"Not really," he replied. "I mean, we were talking about Petunia's wedding, weren't we? So I'm saying I agree with her. I want to get married too."

"Isn't it more fun being the world's most eligible bachelor?" I teased.

He laughed, running his fingers through his hair like he did. "Nah, not really," he said. "I haven't been lucky yet, but I kind of want one of those insane, whirlwind romances that just take your breath away, you know what I mean? I want that girl where I look her in the eye and I just know, this is it. This is her, the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. I want something that hits me fast and hard and doesn't leave me any time to breathe – because I truly believe love is all or nothing, and I want it all."

He had a dreamy sort of look on his face as he said this, surprisingly vulnerable in the eyes as he made his announcement. I was almost uncomfortable, taking his words in again; I felt like I was trespassing on something too private and personal for my eyes, and here he was, airing it in my face like I deserved to know.

So I decided to reciprocate, and I gave my side on the matter as honestly as I ever have.

"I dunno what kind of a love I want," I said. "I guess I want something with a little bit of everything. A guy who doesn't mind pushing my buttons when I'm being a dolt, but also a guy who will knock on my door at three in the morning because we didn't say good-night properly after our latest argument. A guy who makes me laugh and makes me cry. A guy who is my best friend, but doesn't always respect my wishes – breaks through barriers I never even knew I had, because he knows that's how to get to me. I agree with you when you say love is all or nothing; and I guess I want it all too, but I don't want to overwhelm myself. I solidly believe that friends take priority over boyfriends."

He nodded slowly to this, seeming to comprehend it. There was a torch just over our heads, and the firelight hit the angles of his face just so, making him look so somber, but so lovely at the same time. There was something enigmatic about his face tonight, as we pondered love and marriage in the middle of the night.

"Sometimes, I wonder if I'll ever find it," he said. "If I'll ever get a girl like that. I could swear she's out there, but I mean, there's a war going on. More and more people are dying everyday. I could live out all my days never knowing who she is, where she is, if she really was what I was looking for. It's such a scary thought, being alone for the rest of my life; because I know I won't be able to settle for anyone less than the right girl. I'm…afraid of being alone."

"You won't be alone," I said at once, my hand timidly reaching out to touch his knee. "There are people who care about you. Sirius, Remus, and Peter are three immediate examples." I paused, my heart seeming to jump up and try to escape out of my throat. "And me. I care about you too."

I don't know what possessed me to say that. I really and honestly don't know. But I did, I said it, and once it was out there in the open, I couldn't take it back. He knew what I said. He turned to look at me like he was struck by lightning, searching my face for something, anything, to explain what I just said; but all he got was me, holding his eye and trying to keep myself from getting sick all over the floor next to me.

"I've never told anyone this before," said James, his voice just above a murmur. "Not even the guys."

"And I've never told anyone about my sister, or how much I'm afraid of the future," I said, my tone matching his. "Not even Alice and Livvy."

"I'm glad I told you," he said, painfully honest. "It…feels right."

"Right back at you," I said with a weak smile.

That dazzling smile of his came back to his lips, filled with his vivacious humor, even at this hour, after all we discussed. "You're great, Lils," he said.

"You too," I said back.

He didn't respond to this – instead, he noted my hand, now resting firmly on his knee. And, without warning, his hand came up to join mine, fragilely holding it, our fingers entwining. I took the smallest intake of breath at the gesture, but it was short-lived; because he then said, "Hey, it's time to go to bed. Patrol's over now."

"Right," I said.

"C'mon." He easily lifted me up, holding my hand and dragging me up to my feet. When we were standing, he let go, and we walked together up to our dormitories in silence. Upon reaching our destination, James shook my hand good-night and we went into our separate rooms.

I, being me, collapsed straight onto my bed and pulled out this diary. My heart was beating way too fast for comfort and was lingering in the region somewhere between my throat and its rightful place in my chest. I wasn't sure how I felt, because my head felt like it had been melted and stabbed like Swiss cheese.

Even after writing the whole thing out, I still can't believe it happened the way it did. I mean, I just can't. I find myself questioning it now, too, interrogating my memory as though I expect a different answer. Did he really say that? Did I really answer the way I did? Did we hold hands, or am I dreaming? None of it feels real; and yet, something in my gut tells me it's very real.

The current between us is changing once again. I thought it was okay, I thought we were fine, and I lived in a happy bubble of denial; but I can't deny this anymore.

Something's happening. I don't know what it is, I'm afraid to even try to define it, but I know it's there. I can feel it. I can almost taste it on my tongue, when I see him and think about what to say next.

I was being as open and exposed as I've ever been when I told him how much I feared the future. But I didn't tell him how much I fear a future that might include him in a role greater than the one he currently holds.

I couldn't tell him that. I mean, come on. If I can keep some semblance of peace and tranquility between us, I definitely will.

I have too many other things to worry about. This is a really bad time to feel anything for James Potter.

It is. It really, really is.

And, that being said…

I am bloody exhausted and will need toothpicks to prop my eyelids open if I want to stay conscious any longer. 'Night.

--

A/N: In case you haven't noticed, my updates aren't as frequent as they have been in the summer. That's something I would get used to. Sorry, but this is junior year. It counts. And I kind of don't want to screw it up.

I hope this was fluffy enough for you, for the time being. We'll have a bit more fluff in the chapter after next.

So, for now, review. C'mon. You totally know you want to.

Cheers!


	34. I Look into my Own Crystal Ball

A/N: So…I'm learning quickly that people weren't kidding when they said I wouldn't have much time to myself this year. I have a ton of homework, or I'm too exhausted to write, or I just can't think period, making me resort to Solitaire. I wrote the homework-complaining-heavy portions of this story in the summer, but now I'm beginning to live them here in good old reality. And it's a bitch.

It is after a lot of effort that I present you this chapter. But I am very pleased to announce that I am (currently) thrilled with the planned progression of events from this point forward – so there is going to be a lot of humor, a lot of love, and a lot of misery cascading down upon you. Try and keep up.

Enjoy this chapter, then, (it's not as tumultuous as some of the later ones will be) and here's to hoping I can finish this tale before I'm an old lady.

--

January 19

**Morning Check:**

Obviously, knowing me, it didn't go as well as I'd hoped. I woke up kind of late this morning, via the new alarm clock, but I was able to get to class on time, just barely. I need to do a better job of dragging myself out of bed a little earlier.

But, in an effort to be positive, I'm definitely eating less these days. That's one goal I'm fulfilling a bit better this year – which I am quite pleased about.

As for the other stuff…blimey, I'm never going to be a mature woman, no matter what I do, so why do I even bother? Let me stick with this eating/waking up thing for now and the rest of will follow afterwards. Maybe.

I need a large store of alcohol and a ten week break from my life. This is getting kind of ridiculous.

**1:00 PM**  
_Status_: Mellow

So, this morning, we got a bit of a break from our morning classes in order to do something very special for us amazing seventh-years only – _the career fair_.

The career fair is something we have to attend in the middle of seventh year (which is right now) – as fifth years, career discussions are nothing fancy, because they just hand out brochures and things to help guide you for N.E.W.T. years, as well as talk to your Head of House. For us at this point, though, we are on the cusp of graduating and the teachers of Hogwarts kind of want us to have a clue, talk to people and figure things out. So today has basically been Exile in Tomorrowland.

After breakfast, me and the other seventh years checked in with our first period teachers – for me, Professor Flitwick – and were then herded back to the Great Hall, which had been transformed especially for us. They had a bunch of guests who were in the various professions they advertised, giving out colorful pamphlets that told us what kind of N.E.W.T. grades they wanted. It was both exciting and extremely terrifying.

For my friends, however, it was a different story altogether.

"This is stupid," Livvy grumbled as we went inside. "I know what I want to do and it's not going to be found here. Why do I have to stay?"

"Livs, you can't hope to make your living on Quidditch forever," pointed out Alice. "I mean, yeah, it's great fun for a few years, but what about afterwards? What are you going to do when you can't play, for whatever reason?"

"I'll find work somewhere," said Livvy dismissively. "And I'll get married at some point, so my husband and I can figure it out together. But for now, I just want to play Quidditch. That's all I _can _do."

"Nonsense," I said. "You're smart, Livvy – and definitely more organized than Alice or me."

"Yes, I know, but my grades are nothing spectacular, and I can't see myself anywhere else but on the Quidditch pitch," said Livvy. "Quidditch, you guys, and Russell – those are the only three things I live for. Otherwise, life's not worth it."

"Well, so long as you stay balanced with things," said Alice, chortling. "I think this is a good opportunity to see what's out there. I mean, I'm still kind of undecided about what I want to do and this is another chance for me to take steps and figure it out."

"I think it's interesting," I reasoned. "I think you're right on that count, Alice. Livs, just because you know what you're going to do – like, I know I want to be a Healer – doesn't mean it's a bad thing to look at other potential choices."

"Well, I'm not you two," she said. "I don't have any other choices. It's Quidditch or nothing."

"The whole world isn't always that black and white," I reasoned.

But no matter what I said, Livvy refused to budge. Sometimes, it really bothered me how it had to be _her _way or no way. But then again, it's Livvy. Maybe I shouldn't be so surprised. I've known her for ages after all.

Still, despite the Livvy factor, Alice and I had a good time browsing the career fair. Alice picked up almost every single pamphlet they offered, sifting through them and talking excitedly, at top speed, about how she could possibly make the grades necessary for a certain profession.

"Gringotts sounds interesting, doesn't it?" she asked, waving something green and navy blue in my face. "I mean, I like the idea of working with goblins. It's different everyday, you know?"

"Yes, Alice, it is," I said, bemused.

"But I also like the idea of a Ministry career," mused Alice, now digging up her many Ministry pamphlets. "And I love writing, so journalism can be in the picture too, for the Daily Prophet or something…"

"Well, if your essays are any indication of your journalism skills, you may want to rethink it," advised Livvy. "Me and Lily are always fixing them for you. Your conclusions tend to be abysmal."

"Yes, but that's because I'm not writing about a subject I'm passionate about," dismissed Alice.

"Sometimes, you'll have to write things you don't want to write about," I pointed out.

"If I'm paid, I'll make it work," Alice assured me.

"If you say so…" Livvy sighed, checking her watch for the millionth time.

We walked around together for about an hour or so, but after that, we started to split up, looking individually at our own interests. Livvy got talking with one of the Ministry people about Quidditch and was trying to find some information on who to talk to about getting on a professional team. Alice started talking to more of the Gringotts people (including the goblins) about the bank. I spoke to all the Healers in turn, going into great detail with my questions about work conditions, pay, requirements, interning and all that. I got a lot of interesting information.

My favorite Healer that I talked to was Healer Smarmer. She was forced to go by Healer Smarmer, because that's her surname, but she reckons it sounds ugly – "It makes me sound like a bloody bureaucrat, and who wants to sound like one of them when you're trying to save someone's life?" – and she told me to call her Lenny, which is her friends' pet name for her (her name is Helen).

When I admitted to her that I think I am becoming allergic to hard work and I find myself eating around the clock when I'm stressed, Lenny laughed aloud and said, "You should've seen me during _my _N.E.W.T. year. I had to have the nurse magically pump my stomach because I almost ate myself mad two days before my exam. I never lived that one down. But don't worry – working properly and without homework is a relief after seventh year. I mean, look at me – I'm not a size twenty-five, so there's definitely less stress to keep me stuffing my face."

Naturally, Lenny and I became fast friends.

Here are some of Lenny's mildly eccentric views on Healing:

_When writing applications…_

"Be as honest as possible. My boyfriend at the time of my application-writing-time – who I've long since broken up with – said that he knew Finnish, and the interviewer was delighted, because he was fluent in Finnish. So when he got in, the guy enthusiastically conducted the whole thing in Finnish and Tom had no idea what was going on, poor lamb. He had to admit his lie by the end of a very awkward conversation and he is _still _unemployed, the lazy and ignorant bum."

_When going in for an interview…_

"It helps to be very sophisticated and mature when you go in there. Make sure you're wearing nice shoes and even if it kills you, be polite. It usually helps if you set up a date to get pissed with some of your friends afterwards. But, once you're hired, you can usually be more yourself and there won't be as much consequence for it. They just need you to be superhuman for the interview so they know they can demand it of you whenever they feel like – which, I mean, is not too often."

_When dealing with difficult patients…_

"Most of our patients are pretty much idiots. They haven't gone through the training we Healers go through and when they whine, it's usually about something stupid. Usually, when I need them to shut up and let me do my job, a little Body Bind does the trick, along with a Memory Charm if they seem like they're going to rat you out to your superior."

_When dealing with ethical dilemmas…_

"These are always difficult, but a good general rule of thumb is, if you were doing this to your best friend in the whole wide world, how do you think you would act? Of course, we are going on the assumption that you are not a serial killer intent on torturing all your friends as practice for later assassinations, but you seem like a good sort to me, Evans, so we don't really need to worry about it."

_When not sure how to deal with a situation…_

"Your first choice should be to run to your superior and make sure that your hunch is correct. When you bug him or her into a frenzy with your constant stream of questions – which can happen, just saying – then I would suggest, make an educated assumption. There are always people around in case you screw up."

_When trusted with a patient's secrets…_

"Telling is always better than not telling. I would go ahead and tell the family whatever they've admitted, but because of the way the rules system works, I would suggest convincing them that it's morally justified before doing whatever the hell you want anyway. Less guilt involved with both parties."

_When needing a day off of annoying whiners…_

"There's some great stuff at Zonko's to help you fake illness – and since most Healers are supposed to be sophisticated and above that sort of nonsense, they won't have a clue and you can probably get away with it!"

Lenny is pretty much my favorite person ever. I have her phone number down somewhere in my bag for when I need to call her next. She makes being a Healer sound very appealing. I introduced her to Alice and Livvy and they seemed to get along. Lenny is quite unorthodox for the job she's in, but she does all right, and she assured me that her employers love "sparks."

"You seem like you have the potential for some sparks, Evans," she told me critically as she looked me over with her startlingly blue eyes. "I mean, you've got a sweet-looking face, but – as I'm sure you're well aware of – you have rather unusual hair and eyes, which suggests that you're not all you seem to be. You like people, right?"

"Usually," I said.

"And do you get good marks in class?"

"I generally linger at or close to the top," I said, blushing slightly.

"You're going to do fine," Lenny said decidedly. "You're going to make a great Healer one day – when you're getting ready to go job-hunting, give me a ring and I'll put in a good word with my boss for you. I work at St. Mungo's."

"Thanks, Lenny!" I said, utterly delighted.

"Hey, no problem," she responded, her nose crinkling very cutely as she smiled her enormous smile at me. "Good luck on your exams, Evans! Even though you probably don't need it."

"Trust me," I said. "I need it."

Lenny laughed and was forced to turn to Brenda Filiwack, who had a question for her about Healing. Realizing I ought to stop wasting all of Lenny's time, I walked off and went by some of the other tables. The weight of the future seemed to be hovering somewhere a few meters over my head, but I determinedly ignored it – I was going to stay upbeat and positive even if it killed me, and I think I managed my job fairly well.

The fair ended when it was time for lunch, at noon. The various adults in the room began packing up their things, thanking us for having them, us thanking them for their good advice, waving good-bye as they ambled outside. The teachers got the long House tables back for us and we joined the rest of the school for lunch, eagerly discussing the fruits of our conversation.

For me, Livvy, and Alice, there wasn't much to discuss. I'd only solidified my ambition to be a Healer, while Livvy was resolutely stuck on the idea that the whole thing was stupid and Alice had a lot of pamphlets to go through before she decided what she wanted to do. We decided to turn our conversation to other things – particularly when Mary Macdonald flew into the Hall in the middle of the period, dramatically announcing that another scandal had taken place elsewhere in the school.

Well, we couldn't just leave her standing there without people to talk to her and gasp appropriately; so we invited Mary to sit down and tell us all about it. Which, of course, she did.

I'm in History of Magic now and I'm bored out of my mind. In fact, I would rather sift through brightly colored career packets with Alice than sit here and listen to Binns. And that's definitely saying something, as Alice is the most quadruple-minded people I've ever met.

I think I'll have a little nap while I still have some of the period left. I'm always tired these days. A bit of shut-eye never hurts. Besides, that's what half my class is doing already…

'Night, then. For now, anyway.

**6:30 PM**  
_Status_: Irate

Eurgh. I think that one day very soon, I'm going to need to run away from here, change my name, and make a life for myself out in the Arctic wilderness among the penguins and polar bears. They would certainly be kinder to me right now than my friends, because _they_ don't see the need to throw a big hullabaloo over things that don't matter.

What possessed me to say such a thing? Because an event of particular "significance" is coming up very soon and I had completely forgotten about it until this evening:

_My birthday._

(The audience shudders here. Please?)

Okay. Maybe, to some, I would be kind of pathetic for forgetting the fact that I am going to turn eighteen in a matter of eleven days. But, when you look at how my life has been the past few weeks, it's not so unlikely. I mean, I'm up to my eyeballs in all kinds of crap – if I had time to pee more than twice a day, let alone think about my birthday, I would be grateful.

See, here's how it all went down today.

After classes, Alice, Livvy, and I decided to hang out in the common room. Livvy half-heartedly suggested the library in the interest of working – Alice and I are starting to get a little behind again – but we quickly stifled her and stayed in our favorite corner table by the window. I purposefully left my bag in my dormitory so that Livvy would have no reminders to go off of. We sat in our usual chairs and watched the light January snow fall to the ground, quiet as the sound of teenage laughter rang in our ears.

Then Alice said, "I'm so dreadfully bored."

"There's always some kind of work to be done," Livvy pointed out. "That Herbology essay you didn't do last week, for example…"

Alice gave her a filthy look. "No, no, not _that _kind of work," she said. "I mean…there's nothing going on. We're not due for a Hogsmeade visit until Valentine's Day or something, Frank is almost as studious as you and actually does what he's supposed to do, and even the Marauders have been quiet lately. You're always tired, Lily, and you're always with Russell, Livvy. There's nothing exciting to do. We're in a rut."

Livvy and I were silent for a few seconds, absorbing this proclamation.

I responded first, saying fairly, "Well, Alice, you have to remember that we're still in school and exams are going to be coming up in a few months. There's really no time for any _fun _right now. We're all extremely stressed."

"And that's exactly why we need to get out of this rut," insisted Alice. "To break the monotony of stress and let go a little. I mean, you can't say you don't want to."

"Maybe," I admitted. "But honestly, we've got enough on our plates. Livvy disappears off to Quidditch practice in the evenings, I have patrols and prefect meetings to attend to. Right now, I just want to stay afloat, and reminding myself how much fun I could be having would only dishearten what precious little progress I've made."

"Speaking of precious little progress, why is that alarm I gave you working so horribly?" inquired Livvy. "You keep sleeping through it everyday. I asked the store guy to give me the loudest one they possessed and he swore to me it could wake up the dead if it had to."

"I dunno," I said, nonplussed as she shared this bit of insight with me. "I put it on Snooze and just…sleep through it."

Livvy clicked her tongue in disapproval, but otherwise said no more on the subject. Meanwhile, Alice drummed her fingers on the table, staring out into the snow outside, seeming to be a million miles away, a slight crease between her eyebrows. I sat back and absently twirled a lock of my hair around my finger, my thoughts drifting towards the thought of patrolling tonight, my body relaxing, until…

"MERLIN'S BEARD, LILY!" shouted Alice. "I JUST REALIZED SOMETHING!"

Livvy and I must have jumped about a foot in the air when she said this.

"Oh, Alice, you absolute dolt," I complained as Livvy squealed, tenderly rubbing her ears. "Give us a bit of warning before you blow our ears off, would you?"

"Sorry, sorry, but I've just had the most amazing epiphany!" she insisted.

"I don't care if you've figured out the meaning of life itself – I can only ever hear your epiphanies if my ears are fully functional," I sniped.

"Lily," cried Alice, ignoring my comment in favor of gazing rapturously at me. "Lily, it's your birthday in a couple of weeks!"

I paused. It took me a moment to remember what day it was, doing the math until my birthday, taking my time to put two and two together; but Livvy got it much quicker than I did and her anger evaporated almost on the spot.

"Ooh, yes, that's right!" she said delightedly. "Lils…you're going to be eighteen so soon! How did we forget?"

"I…dunno," I said honestly. "It just kind of snuck up on us, I guess. I probably wouldn't have remembered unless you told me."

"You're the absolute dolt here, then, not me," declared Alice. "How do you forget your own birthday, for Merlin's sake? It's your _birthday_!"

"It's not such a big deal," I murmured.

"It's coming of age in the Muggle world," pointed out Livvy. "I'm sure it's a big deal to your parents."

"I haven't had a real birthday party since…before Hogwarts, I reckon," I pointed out.

"Yes, and that's just sad," said Alice promptly. "So tell us. What do you want?"

"What do I want?" I felt a bit like a parrot, repeating this in dumb disbelief, but her question was so foreign to me. How was I supposed to know what I wanted?

"For your birthday," Alice clarified impatiently. "What do you want from me and Livvy?"

"_We_ want your day to be special, even if you don't," Livvy informed me.

"You guys, I don't really want anything," I said. "I have all the material things I need already – I mean, other than a few extra hours to eat and sleep, but you can't exactly give me those…"

"Your birthday is never about things you need – it's about things you want, and there is a marked difference," explained Alice. "Birthdays are about indulgence. If you really want a few extra hours to eat and sleep, me and Livs can arrange it for you somehow."

"No, no, it's fine," I said. "I don't want anything. Seriously."

Alice clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Lils…you know this isn't going to go down well, don't you?"

I sighed. "Well, if you _really _want to know what I want – from Livvy, it would be telling James about her relationship with Russell and from you, Alice, it would be to stop badgering me when I say no to something. Can you arrange something for _that_?"

Both Alice and Livvy pouted quite petulantly at this.

"Lily, that's so _mean_!" wailed Alice. "I'm trying to be good to you!"

"Lils, you know fully well I can't do that," said Livvy in a hard, stony sort of voice. "Everything's going fine right now with me and Russell – James doesn't have a clue and we've been dating for months now. I'd like to keep it that way to avoid any repercussions that could possibly come up."

"Yes, I understand all this," I said. "But you asked me what I wanted and there, I've told you. Any other insane avenues you decide to pursue are all you."

"You have to be the only girl in the world who gets so uptight about her birthday," said Alice, shaking her head sadly at me. "I love having birthdays! They're so much fun!"

"You're taking quite a silly line on all this," agreed Livvy.

"I don't like parties," I said with a shrug. "Anyway, this conversation is starting to get kind of annoying, so I think I'm going to go to my dormitory and finish some homework. Okay?"

"Fine," said Livvy, obviously miffed. "See you at dinner, then."

"Bye," said Alice glumly, waving at me.

I nodded and bounced off my chair, leaving the portrait hole, my heart feeling heavy in my chest, like it's a drowned bundle of socks or something. I slipped into my own portrait hole and sat at my desk, my bag sitting next to me, the clock ticking on the wall, my conscious chastising me in an increasingly loud voice about how much work I had yet to do.

But then I figured, screw it all. I'm not in the right mood, so even if I did try to get something done, it would come out completely wrong.

Hence…this diary came out.

To be honest, I'm not entirely sure why I dislike my birthday so much either. Alice and Livvy have long been baffled, but they don't realize that so have I, because I haven't had a traditional birthday party since I was nine.

I just…I don't know. There's something about the idea of holding the anniversary of your birth sacred that makes my skin crawl. The attention, the presents, the overabundance of sugary things…it sounds nice on the surface (particularly the sugary things bit) but it makes me uncomfortable, because I don't like people making a big deal out of nothing.

So what if I was born exactly sixteen or seventeen or, now, eighteen years ago? What does that matter? I'm getting older. Every year – actually, every second – I'm alive brings me closer to the year/second that I die. Big whoop. Why do we feel the need to put balloons and streamers and act like it's a good thing?

I know I'm taking a very negative stance on the matter, but I truly can't help that. I just don't like my birthday. It's another reminder that time is passing and things are going to change; and I'm touchy about change. Particularly now.

But, knowing my friends and their histories with such ordeals, I'm sure I can expect something ridiculous anyway.

Why? Well, let us consult our dear Ghost of Birthdays Past to understand what I mean.

And, without further ado…

**Past Birthday Horrors**  
A list compiled by: Lily Evans

**Year 1**

My birthday has the wonderful advantage of being in the middle of the year – enough time for me to get to know people who are eager to enjoy themselves on a day that's supposed to be mine. I didn't know Livvy well then, but I knew Alice; and because my birthday fell on a Hogsmeade weekend, she and a group of our other friends went to the Three Broomsticks, where Alice had the staff sing loudly for me and give me a cake. Highly embarrassing.

**Year 2**

By this point, I knew many more people, who also went with the Alice train of thought. However, by this point, I also knew a lot of jinxes and was particularly vindictive in using them – so I threatened anyone who made a big deal out of my birthday with a hex they wouldn't enjoy. The risk kept some at bay; but others, like Alice, got me a cake from the kitchens anyway and I couldn't do anything about it. Alice was delighted.

**Year 3**

This year, I tried a different tactic – refusing to acknowledge my birthday. I didn't tell anyone when it was, and on the day itself, I didn't admit it was anything significant. I hoped that people would just forget, because Alice is the main perpetrator of evil in these scenarios and she has the memory of a leaky cauldron – thoroughly unreliable. It was a good tactic, and totally almost worked, but I was somewhat acquainted with Livvy then and she had somehow found out when my birthday was and marked it on her calendar. Because of this, Alice suddenly remembered in the evening that it was my birthday – so, to make up for a quiet day, she had the whole Gryffindor common room sing to me. Very awkward.

**Year 4**

By fourth year, James had cemented his enormous crush on me, and was all but stalking me in an effort to get my attention. This, of course, meant that he knew when my birthday was and embellished the ordeal even more than Alice had. He arrived in the Great Hall that morning with flowers that he shoved in my face, tried to hug me every five minutes, and made people in every single one of my classes sing happy birthday to me. By the end of it, I was more ready to kill him than I ever was before.

**Year 5**

This year was O.W.L. year, so I was freaking out about that during my birthday season – even though it was in January, I still freaked out, because the new term brought me the realization that I was closer to my exams than I thought I was. This meant that I completely forgot about my birthday, like I did this year, and I was busy trying to keep up with homework and exam preparation. Unfortunately, Livvy has an excellent memory and remembered it was my birthday – she reminded Alice, who freaked out because she almost forgot, and she racked her brains for the best way to celebrate. She needn't have worried though. James was in the peak of his obsessive crush on me and he had plans of his own. With the help of his friends, he held a stunts show in the common room in my honor, making me watch by putting a Sticking Charm on my bottom and sitting me down in a front seat. It was flamboyant and annoying and not in the least bit endearing, but I had to sit through it "for my own good" and the big finale was James breathing fire and writing Happy Birthday over the chair. The Gryffindors were enthralled, but I was just worried my hair would burn off.

**Year 6**

Last year was probably my favorite year, because I retried the theory I attempted to work out in third year – forgetting about it. I made sure Livvy had no trace of a reminder in her calendar – I checked for Invisible Ink and everything – and stayed clear of conversations about parties, celebrations, or birthdays. Amazingly, it worked and I got my wish. Not a single person wished me a happy birthday and I must have been the happiest girl in the world. But I didn't say so. That might've reminded people.

**Year 7**

And this year...I'm not really sure what to expect. We'll have to see how this goes.

So there we have it. Six years of birthday memories that induce moans, groans, and wishes of a license to kill.

After all of this, is it any wonder that I don't like my birthday?

But either way, I think I have to run now. It's about time for dinner. Of course, there could be even more horrors awaiting me in the Hall – Alice and Livvy ranting further about my birthday, for instance – but I think I'll take my chances. Maybe they will see the light, find some tenderness in their hearts, and not harass me further on the matter…

…No way. They are going to do no such thing. But I'm going down anyway, because for some strange reason, I love them both to death.

Until later, then.

--

A/N: I've been sitting on this chapter for a week – and for me, that's way too long. When that happens, I get sick of the document and it just feels wrong to me in every way, no matter how I look at it. So, really, I have no clue how you're going to find this chapter – but I do know that the next couple are going to be a lot of fun for you (lots of James!) and I pray you forgive me if you don't like this one.

So…cheers, and the review button is right down there.


	35. I Reach a Bit of a Milestone

A/N: Okay. Well. As of late, I'm too swamped with life to write as much as I want to – and while that kills me, this year matters. Thus, I've come to the conclusion that you can expect an update every weekend; because unless there's some miracle brewing in my epic suburb, I'm not finishing anything in less than a week.

So…yeah. An update per week. And I swear it won't be anything more than that.

This chapter should make you guys happy though. I'm excited. I hope you like it!

Great mood music = _Reasons to Love You_, by _Meiko_.

--

January 24

**Morning Check:**

Not good this morning. I was up late yesterday doing a positive avalanche of homework and went to sleep at about two in the morning. Needless to say, my seven o'clock alarm clock was well ignored. The only reason I went to class today at all was because Livvy, by chance, dropped into my dorm to find me asleep. Better luck tomorrow, I guess…

**10:30 AM**  
_Status_: Passing notes during Transfiguration

_Hey, Lils – Martin Cabenza told me this morning that cows have hair. Is that true? –A_

That's really random. Why do you care, Alice? –L

_Because it got me thinking…is it hair, or is it fur? –A_

It's hair. –L

_It's totally fur! Humans have hair. –A_

Well, a lot of other animals have hair too. –L

_Name one. –A_

Um…I dunno off the top of my head, but I'm sure there are some… -L

_It's totally fur. –A_

No, it's not! Martin Cabenza was right, it's hair. –L

_I refuse to believe that. –A_

Remind me why this is my problem…? –L

_I say we ask Livvy! –A_

Sure. Go ahead. But she's going to agree with me. –L

_Livvy – do cows have hair or fur? –A_

_Erm…I don't know.__ –O_

_You should totally know! Lily says it's hair, but I say it's fur. –A_

It's hair! I mean, if you touch a cow, their hides have really fine hairs on them, which makes them softer. –L

_It's kind of stubbly, so it has to be fur. –A_

_Hmmm. It's a difficult question, but I think it's hair, Alice. Lily and Martin Cabenza are right.__ –O_

_It's a conspiracy, I tell you! It's FUR! –A_

Stop being an idiot, Alice. It's not fur. –L

_I'm not an idiot. –A_

_That's a matter of opinion. Just saying.__ –O_

_You guys are awful. I'm going to go ask Frank after class and see what he thinks. I'm sure he's going to think it's fur, because IT IS. –A_

Whatever you say, Alice. –L

_Good luck with that, Alice.__ –O_

_YOU SHALL ALL BE PROVEN WRONG IN TWENTY FOUR MINUTES._ _–A_

… -L

… -O

**11:05 AM**  
_Status_: Giggling

Flashback to five minutes ago…

Alice: Frank! Oi, FRANK!

Frank: Oh, hey, Alice. (comes in for a kiss)

Alice: (refuses the kiss) No. No kissing for you until you tell me the honest answer to the following question.

Frank: Um…okay?

Alice: Do cows have hair or fur? Martin Cabenza, Lily, and Livvy all think they have hair but I think they have fur and they think I'm an idiot.

Frank: I've always been under the impression that they had hair, Alice…

Alice: WHAT?!

Frank: Sorry!

Alice: You should be. I'm not kissing you for the rest of the evening.

Frank: …I'm sorry, I was kidding. They definitely have fur.

Alice: (sniffle) That was so half-hearted.

Frank: Do you care?

Alice: Yes. Deeply.

Frank: …

Alice: Okay, for you, I don't care. Come here. (kisses Frank)

Frank: (kisses her back) But it's still hair.

Alice: (bites his lip) You stink.

Frank: OW!

Alice: I love you. (cuddles)

Hahahaha. I knew it. Cows totally have hair. ALICE HAS FAILED. And I'm going to stop being so hyper, I swear…

**11:45 PM**  
_Status_: Out-of-breath

You know how it is, when you eat a really good cookie or someone gives you a particularly touching compliment, and you walk around the rest of the day with this silly, contented smile on your face and you've got that sweet taste in your mouth that makes you never want to drink water again?

And when people ask you why you're smiling, you just smile even more, because it's so lovely and you don't want to taint the feeling by sharing it with other people?

And you can't stop thinking about it, no matter what other important things you have to do (like sleeping) and you are just floating on air?

Although that was a fairly lame extended metaphor that Livvy would probably roll her eyes at, it's the only one I could think of after sitting here for about five minutes, staring at my paper and wondering how to put this all into words.

I mean, all year, I kept thinking I was hitting breakthroughs…but now I know that in the grand scheme of things, they were nothing – little bumps under my feet that I took for earthquakes.

But tonight…tonight was a real earthquake. Tonight was the greatest cookie in the world, the kindest compliment that the English language can muster. And…I dunno. I just feel like there's something blooming in my stomach, spreading out and making me feel like the world is suddenly a beautiful, beautiful place.

I so desperately want to explain; but in order to have it make sense, I have to back up a little bit and start at the beginning of the conversation.

It all happened during patrol today.

So…I mean, at first I had no clue what was coming to me. I met James, as usual, and we went upstairs to the sixth floor, starting off this norm easily enough. James and I have to do this five days a week – it's ceased to be as awkward as it used to be, spending whole hours together unsure of what to talk about.

But no. We were just chit-chatting as ever, tonight about how much James was craving chicken tacos like his mother makes when he's at home, when all of a sudden, he sprang a surprising question at me.

"Hey, Lils," he asked. "Isn't it your birthday in, like, a week?"

My first thought was, how on earth did he remember? I swallowed thickly and tried to remind myself that this was a perfectly innocent question, one I could easily devise a believable lie for.

But then, I figured, it's _James_. I shouldn't lie to him.

So I said, "Yes. It will be."

This excited him immensely.

"Really?" he asked. "Blimey, Lily, why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I don't like celebrating my birthday," I said over-honestly.

"C'mon, we've always had great celebrations for you, how could you say something like that?" He could be offended, but he was too animated to show it.

"I just don't," I said.

"So…what do you plan on doing for your birthday?" he asked me.

"Nothing," I said. "I don't want to celebrate it."

"_What_?" James was utterly scandalized. "But…but…it's your eighteenth birthday! Of course you should want to celebrate it!"

I fought hard to resist the temptation to laugh at the expression on his face. "James, calm down," I said. "It's just one day. There are three hundred and sixty five of them in a year."

"Yes, but this particular day was the day you were born, x amount of years ago," James reminded me. "I mean…it _matters_. If it wasn't for that day and those circumstances, you wouldn't be here right now – isn't the fact that you're alive something to be excited about?"

"That's really twisted logic," I remarked.

"No, it's _true _logic," he corrected me. "Lils, you _have _to celebrate your birthday. What do you want? What can I get you?"

I went pink with embarrassment. "Nothing," I insisted.

"There has to be _some_thing," he wheedled. "C'mon. Tell me. Please?"

"Okay, fine," I said. "If I wanted anything for my birthday, it would be if you didn't make a big deal about it."

James's hopeful face fell flat almost at once.

"Oh, but Lily, that's dreadful," he said. "It's your _birthday_! I've never met anyone who didn't like their birthday."

"Well, now you have," I said.

"Bullshit," he announced.

"Drop the subject," I advised him. "I'm not about to change my mind."

James shot me a sullen look, but reluctantly changed the subject. But I could see that underneath that petulance was a spark of determination and mischief that his maturity had not yet rubbed out – and instantly, I knew something bad was going to happen on the day of my birthday, no matter what I tried to say/do about it.

I was mildly frightened of the potential consequences, but I didn't say so. I didn't want to give him any ideas.

So we continued to walk together, pursuing a subject not related to my birthday, wandering the empty corridors and listening to our voices bounce across the wall. It was normal, easy, just like most evenings – until we met a bit of a disturbance about ten minutes later. It came in the form of Sirius Black, who was attempting to sneak down the corridor very subtlety.

But, being Sirius, he has almost as much subtlety as a bull in a Dark Arts shop.

James and I were about to turn the corner when we heard footsteps and careful, labored breathing on the other end. I was a little nervous, but James, who probably recognized the sounds immediately, quieted me with a nod and went in first. We jumped out together and utterly startled poor Sirius, who, in his concentration, had not heard us coming.

"Blimey!" he yelped, dropping his heavy bag and picking it back up again. "If it wasn't you lot, I would've pissed my pants right there! Give a guy a bit of warning before you come barging in like that!"

"Sorry, mate, but I'm the Head Boy and Dumbledore has made it my job to ask you why the hell you're not in bed right now," said James, grinning. "So, before I bust your balls for being out of bed, you want to tell me what's going on?"

Sirius grimaced. "Piss off."

James waggled his finger at his friend. There was a glint of humor in his eyes that suggested such a conversation was not exactly uncommon between the two of them.

"Now, now, Pads – is that any way to talk to your _superior_?" he inquired.

"If you're my superior, then yes," said Sirius obnoxiously.

James opened his mouth, probably to continue this banter, but I interrupted, "Sirius, honestly. What're you doing out of bed?"

Sirius scowled at James, but gave me a saintly smile that lit up his handsome features like a Christmas tree.

"Well, dear Head Girl Lily Evans," he said rather haughtily, "I was on a quest to the kitchens. I get hunger pangs in the evenings, you know. Ask Remus if you don't believe me."

This explanation seemed to pacify James (most likely the bit about Remus, who was well-known as the trust-worthy Marauder), but I raised an eyebrow and he caved unexpectedly fast.

"Okay, okay, so I'm not getting hunger pangs," he admitted.

"Surprise, surprise," I said.

"I'm actually on my way to get food for Napoleon," he explained. "He's been growing awfully big lately – he can't make do with the scraps I steal for him during the day. So I figured I'd slip down to the kitchens, get him something, and come back up, no harm done. But I _had _to run into you two…"

"Well, I mean, even if your intentions were noble, you really shouldn't be out of bed right now," I said, checking my watch.

"You're not going to turn me in, are you?" Sirius seemed aghast at the idea.

"No, no, we're not going to turn you in," James assured him.

"But I will send you back to bed this instant," I took over. "If you want food for Napoleon, we can get it. It's easier for us and there are far less questions asked."

Sirius considered this. "You know, you're actually right," he said, impressed.

"Yes, it does tend to happen once in a while," I responded with a grin.

James laughed, but Sirius continued on in this vein, a thoughtful look on his face. "No, that's brilliant," said Sirius. "I mean, you patrol every weeknight, right?"

"Yes," I said, uncomprehending.

"I'm not going to pretend it wasn't way more fun going out myself, but if you could run down to the kitchens and get Napoleon food every once in a while, that would really help," he said. "I mean, I asked Wormtail to do it, but he can only nick small things and Napoleon needs much more…"

I smiled. "Sure, Sirius," I said. "We'll go get some right now, if you like."

"I'm almost there," Sirius objected.

"Yes, but you've been caught by authority figures with amazing detention-giving powers," James reminded him with a smirk. "So, ickle Padfoot, you go right back to bed and we'll drop by with food. Napoleon is in my dorm, right?"

"Yeah, and so am I, I'm camping out tonight," said Sirius.

"Excellent," said James. "Me and Lily will be right up, then."

"Fine," said Sirius. "See you in a bit. And don't take forever, all right? Napoleon's already in a foul mood and he might just eat _me _soon…"

"We got it," I said. "Go, before I rethink James's proposition not to bust you."

Sirius made a face at me, but did leave, leaving me and James alone again. A wide grin on his face, James jerked his head in the direction of the correct staircase and we made our way to the kitchens, giggling away at the idea of Napoleon chasing Sirius around Hogwarts trying to get something to eat. It was admittedly some great imagery.

It took us a few minutes, but we did eventually make it down to the kitchens. James got us into the portrait and we stepped inside, where the house elves were merrily squeaking away and cleaning, thoroughly delighted to see us.

"Hello, Miss! Hello, Sir!" they chirped. "Can we get you something?"

I couldn't remember the last time I'd been to the kitchens – I mean, I know I've been, but it had been a while and the sudden splurge of attention was slightly disconcerting. I had to blink a couple of times, getting my brain properly in gear; but James, thoroughly accustomed to sneaking down to the kitchens, was unperturbed and said, "Yes, you can. I need…erm…a bit of milk, some bread, and chicken. In a bag, if you please – they're for a cat. Oh, and I need some éclairs too."

At once, the elves sprang into action, scurrying around the kitchen to get these things. I, on the other hand, looked incredulously at James.

"Are you kidding?" I asked. "You want éclairs for Napoleon? Human food is horrible for cats, don't you know that?"

"Of course I do," James assured me. "But…well…while we're here, I don't see what's wrong with having a bit of a snack. I worked out today with Quidditch."

I rolled my eyes. "We have to get back to patrolling once we drop the food off with Sirius, fool."

"Not yet," insisted James. "C'mon. Have a snack with me."

I groaned. "Oh, James…you know perfectly well that late-night snacks are my weaknesses. Why do you shove them in my face like this when you know I'm going to shirk my responsibilities and agree with you?"

"Because I'd rather shirk our responsibilities and eat here with you," he said, fluttering his eyelashes at me. "You do want to, don't you?"

"Of course I do," I said, giving him a filthy look.

"Excellent!" James grinned at me and called to the nearest house elf, "Oi! Can you get us some more éclairs, then? And some treacle tart? And a few licorice wands?"

"I hate you," I said, giving him a shove. "I love treacle tart and licorice wands."

"And some lemon meringue pie!"

I gave him a kick this time. "You are going to be the death of me. And my arteries."

He only smiled at me. "It's okay. You're young and skinny."

"Not if we keep doing this," I retorted.

"Come _on_, Lils, we haven't done this even once all year – which, frankly, is rather surprising," said James. "Stop being such a responsible individual and sit here with me. Join us on the slacker side."

I raised my eyebrow, but he fluttered his eyelashes all convincingly at me again. "We have treacle tart," he wheedled.

And, at this precise moment, a pair of house elves trotted up to us with a tray holding two heaping plates of treacle tart, lemon meringue pie, and licorice wands, the mountain tottering high but looking scrumptious. They beamed at us as they handed it to us.

James thanked them and they scurried off to get the rest of the stuff. Pleased, he set the tray down on the floor and sat down with his back to the wall, patting the space next to the tray. Sighing heavily, I conceded (treacle tart _is _my weakness and he knew it) and sat down, picking up my plate and digging in with my fork. I took my first bite and I knew instantly that while I hated myself for it, this tart was making me feel pretty damn good.

For a couple of minutes, James and I ate together in silence, savoring the taste of it in our mouths. It had been a pretty long day today and the wonderful sweetness of our treat, mixed with the excitement of evading patrol, hit just the right spot. But, while I was still being a pig and eating, James swallowed his bite and began to speak.

"Is it good?" he asked.

Because my mouth was unattractively full, I worked on giving an enormous swallow and nodded my head at him and put up my index finger, indicating that he wait a second. When my throat was clear, I coughed and said, "Yes. Clearly."

"Yeah, I guess," he said, chuckling. "Good. I'm glad."

I smiled and took another bite.

"This is so wrong," I informed him, wagging my fork at him as I started my latest deposit of tart. "I shouldn't be here. Not only am I eating highly fattening desserts late at night, but I'm supposed to be patrolling with you!"

"You work too hard," said James dismissively. "You should be glad for an opportunity to slack off with me. Consider it…an early birthday present, for a birthday you don't want to celebrate."

I took yet another bite of my tart. "Fine," I conceded. "But does this mean you're going to stay hands-off on my actual birthday?"

"Sure thing," said James. "On my honor."

"Good." Satisfied with his word, I polished off the last morsels of licorice left (my mother has always said I don't eat dessert, I inhale it) as the elves arrived with Napoleon's food bag and yet another plate of éclairs. They took my plate away, as well as James's (apparently, he inhales dessert too); but upon seeing the bag, I suddenly remembered why we were here.

"James," I said, "we need to go give Sirius Napoleon's food bag. He's probably wondering where we are."

James stared at the bag too, obviously weighing his options. To go or not to go. To eat or not to eat. It was admittedly a difficult decision. If it was me who had to make it, it would take me all night, while I checked pros and cons and made a fully informed decision. But, as James was James, he waited about ten seconds before saying, "Let's eat the éclairs. Then we can go. Sirius can wait, the sneaking, stealing bastard. He deserves it."

I giggled. "Fine," I said, not quite in the mood to argue. "That sounds good."

"Éclair, my dear?" he asked me pompously with a terrible French accent, offering me the plate of éclairs. I stuck my tongue out at him, but took the éclair anyway, nibbling at it a little more delicately, now that some of my hunger was quenched by the other stuff and I was a little more aware of how hideous I looked when I was eating.

We both nibbled at our éclairs, content, not talking much as the speed of our consumption steadily increased. James offered to have an éclair chugging competition with me, but I refused, and finished my éclair extra slow just to bug him. He admitted it was one of his pet peeves when people ate slowly – normally, it wasn't a problem, because Sirius ate like a horse on fast forward and so did Peter and he was too accustomed to Remus's pace to care – but when I did that to him, it drove him mad.

I was tempted, then, to eat even more slowly, just to bother him, but my better nature won out. I shouldn't do that. Instead, I ate an entire éclair in one bite and made him clap with delight, and promptly almost-choked in my responding laughter. That was what he did with me.

The plate of éclairs was quickly finished between us, but as we played our games and made our jokes, Napoleon's food bag was instantly forgotten in favor of talking with our mouths full and messing around and touching with our hands, or our ankles, or our shoulders, or whatever was close at the time. I can't even remember half of what we talked about, sitting there together, jumping from subject to subject as if skipping on a trail of stones through a lake.

But what I do remember – and what is relevant at the moment – came somewhere after our third plate of éclairs (they _are _my weakness) and before we finally decided to go upstairs.

We were sitting there, feeling woolly and fat and stupid and happy after all our éclairs, and James was nudging my foot with his. I found it very annoying.

"Will you stop doing that?" I asked.

"Doing what?" he asked innocently, doing it again.

"_That_," I said, pointing at his foot.

"My foot?" He looked curiously at his foot. "I can't do my foot, Lily. I mean, I can try, but I'm almost positive it won't be pretty…"

I snorted and kicked his leg. "No, you dolt! Stop hitting me with your foot!"

"What, you want me to stop doing this?" He nudged my foot again.

"_Yes_," I said, exasperated. "I hate it when you do that."

"You _hate _it?" He cocked up an eyebrow at this, intrigued.

"Yes, I do," I said.

"I didn't know you felt so _strongly _about it," he said.

"Well, I mean, there are only a handful of things I really hate, but consistently poking me is one of them," I clarified.

He nodded, seeming to take this in and accept it. But then, completely out of the blue, he inquired, "Am I one of those things?"

This took me aback; I started, swearing to myself that I had heard him wrong, and said, "Excuse me?"

"Am I one of those things?" he repeated, his tone too determined to be casual. "That you hate?"

"You mean…do I hate you?" I asked, incredulous and probably way too boorish for my own good.

_This _took _him _aback – at least, my blunt wording of it did. He blinked a couple of times, staring wondrously at me, but he eventually nodded.

"Yes," he said. "I want to know…if you hate me."

I opened my mouth, ready to answer, but then I shut it and didn't say anything. Suddenly, as though by a flip of a switch, the relaxed and easy mood of two seconds ago morphed into something suffocating and awkward, and we were left in its wake, not sure how or why the magic was broken. It was like we'd become different people now, just because he asked me one simple question that I hadn't considered in a really long time.

I was silent for so long that James cleared his throat and asked me, "Well? Do you hate me? It can't be a good sign if it takes you so long to decide…"

"No," I said slowly, but surely. "No…it's not _that_. I just…I mean…" And I felt my face go its favorite infernal pink. Damn.

But he interpreted it differently, telling me quickly, "Look, I know this isn't easy to talk about, but we haven't really touched on it yet, and I kind of want to know where we stand…I mean, I think we're friends now, but I can't be sure…I don't want to misread anything and freak you out later…"

"No, you're fine," I assured him, but I still felt like I was tripping over my tongue, which was too big for my mouth, all of a sudden. I could feel my body trembling, ever so slightly, and I tried to get myself under control, talk properly.

I mean, he was right. We had never addressed our previous relationship and where it stood for pretty much the whole time we have known each other, and that was wrong. We should address it. But at the same time, gosh…

I went silent again for a long time, trying to wrack my brains for the best way to get into this conversation. I'd envisioned it in my head plenty of times before, of course, but my imagination didn't match up in the least to the real thing, when the real person in question was sitting and breathing right beside me, warm and in the flesh. It made me nervous, particularly when he brought me back to the sharp reality of who I was hanging out with.

Because no matter what he has ever pretended otherwise, James Potter is not an ordinary human being.

But I figured, what the hell. He took the risk, the big first step, and brought up the subject. Plus, he was being admirably patient about my inability to answer in a timely, eloquent manner – because if he felt even half as antsy as I felt, he must have been in hell and he was hiding it really well.

So, I guess, after taking all that into consideration, I supposed could elaborate on it and put this whole thing to peace before going up to bed. The door was open, wasn't it?

Swallowing hard and willing myself to be brave, I avoided his eyes and said, "I don't think I've ever truly hated _you_, James. I guess…I guess I really just hated the way that you made me _feel_, more than anything else."

"D'you mind explaining?" he asked, polite but so utterly breathless.

"I just…I didn't like having you come up and say something baffling and leave me feeling something I didn't want to feel," I said, my voice so soft under the acute gaze of the lights and his hazel eyes. "I didn't want to feel like you had the power to affect my day the way you did – making me so angry I couldn't think straight, so embarrassed that I wanted to move to the Arctic or something. I…didn't like that you cared so much. The attention freaked me out."

"You…always said you hated everything about me," he said, just as softly. "You said…I don't even know anymore…things about how I could never leave you alone, how I was a stalker and a fool for chasing after you. You didn't want anything to do with me."

"No, I didn't," I said, "because back then, you were this goofball little prat who could do whatever the hell he wanted and everyone would clap and smile and act like you were a genius of some sort. And then you went after the brainy little girl with red pigtails who knew all the answers to last night's homework. Of course I wanted nothing to do with you."

This made him smile, adding a brilliance to his face that I can't explain. "And what about now?" His voice had less weight on it than earlier.

"Now…now, I don't even know," I said honestly. "I can't…we…I mean, we're too weird to pin down into one little box that we can point to and define in a few simple words. We're so much more than that. But I think I can safely say that, despite our differences and our history, we've restarted our relationship, gotten off on the right foot instead of the wrong one. We're _friends _– all the other crap we've gone through shouldn't matter anymore. I like where we are at this point."

"I do too," he agreed. "I like this. I like being your friend."

"And, surprisingly enough, being your friend isn't half bad either," I said, grinning and giving him a little nudge with my shoulder.

He smirked and nudged me back, his face relieved in a way. "I'm glad you think so."

"The past is the past," I said. "It's done and over and it's time to let it go. This year has been going so well for us. Like, we're patrolling and eating and talking and being normal, and I'm happy that I don't have to leave Hogwarts with some weird, awkward relationship hanging over my head, you know?"

"You're right," he said, though not as emphatically as perhaps he should've been. "This is good. Very good."

There was something off in his smile – like it wasn't as brilliant as it was when he used it before.

So I asked tentatively, "Are…you all right?"

Instantly, at the slightest hint of distrust, he bounced right out of this moody, half-hearted lull, and let some light back into his face, his eyes wide and innocent.

"Yeah, yeah, of course I am," he said.

"Good," I said, uncertain but somewhat comforted nonetheless.

His smile was more sincere this time. "I'm just glad you don't hate me. For a while, I was kind of afraid that you did."

"I don't hate you," I said gently. "It's actually surprisingly difficult. You're too charismatic for your own good. Even when you are acting like an egotistical toe-rag – which, I mean, you don't really do anymore, but still."

He laughed this time, the sound wonderful to my ears. "Really?"

"Yeah," I said, grinning, happy to see him happy again.

"Wow," he said. "I would've paid to hear you say that, back in fourth year."

"Well…you've heard it now," I said. "I'm only three years too late."

He snickered. "_Only _three years."

I blushed and didn't respond, not sure what to say next. But he didn't seem to care, his smile brilliant again, his eyes – as damn hazel as they are – locking into mine. Looking at him then, it was a bizarre mix of the kid that used to make me uncomfortable and this near man that makes me happy – and subsequently, I felt both uncomfortable but happy, sitting so close to him in the kitchens, so full of tart and éclairs and our conversation. I still don't know how to explain it – James is a difficult guy to pin down.

But, the moment passed pretty quickly in real time, because by chance I glanced over his shoulder and noticed Napoleon's food bag, still sitting there and waiting. A shot of guilt plagued my stomach and I bit my lip.

"Hey, James?" I said.

"Yeah?" he responded.

"I think we need to give Sirius the food bag now," I said.

"Fuck, I forgot!" James instantly jumped into action, getting up and hauling the bag over his shoulder. "We've got to get going…Napoleon does get into some really foul moods sometimes…I hope Sirius is okay…"

"C'mon, then, let's go!" I got up as well and took his hand. He was surprised, but more intent on dashing up the stairs with me, both of us sprinting as fast as we could go (which, admittedly, was not our best, thanks to all the food we'd just eaten), until we skidded to a halt at James's dormitory. He said his password, unlocking the portrait, and he cautiously pushed it aside, unsure of the fate he would meet once inside.

It turned out he had every reason to be cautious – because when we walked in, Sirius was standing in the middle of the room, his hair wild and his breathing heavy and his wand raised above his head. He looked quite mad. When he heard our footsteps, he whirled around to face us, eyes widening.

"Where the bleeding _fuck _have you been?" he demanded in a weird rasp.

"We're sorry, Sirius," said James, his voice bracing and slow and extremely careful. "We got a little held up."

"Doing _what_, exactly?" he asked.

We both went a delicate shade of pink. Sirius's eyes widened even more – if that was even possible.

"I don't care _how _much unresolved sexual tension you two have got," he bellowed. "Snogging in a broom cupboard while I am defenseless to this cat from hell is _not _acceptable! I _told _you he was in a bad mood!"

I went even pinker at this allegation. He thought we'd been snogging! He thought we had unresolved sexual tension! But…but…but we weren't snogging and we certainly don't have unresolved sexual tension! We just have general tension. That's totally different.

I opened my mouth to point this out, but James shot me a brief warning look and I knew it would probably not be in my best interest if I tried to reason with Sirius. So I closed my mouth again.

"We're sorry, Sirius," repeated James. "Now where's Napoleon? I have enough food in here for at least a week."

Sirius put on a very filthy, childish expression and pointed at the floor. We looked down and found a small black heap, lying motionless on the carpet. James yelped and picked him up at once, stroking his limp fur.

"Sirius!" James was utterly appalled – he had this cute little crease between his eyebrows that perfectly displayed his irritation. "What have you done to Napoleon?"

"Have you once considered what that little bugger did to _me_?" demanded Sirius, looking utterly mad again. "He's been _scratching _me, and _biting _me, and _hissing _at me, and _chasing _me around the dorm, and trying to _shred _my robes! And he ate my socks!"

"The ones on your feet?" I inquired, aghast.

"Yes!" said Sirius hysterically, showing me his cut-up feet. "He's a _monster_! And you left me _alone _with him!"

Now, he collapsed on the floor, breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling, looking madder by the second. James and I exchanged looks; we were both feeling very sorry and guilty about Sirius's state, but at the same time, it was highly amusing and we were itching to have a bit of a laugh at his misfortune.

Luckily, though, we thought better of it.

Clearing his throat, James gently coaxed Sirius's wand out of his hand and used it to take the Body Bind Curse off of Napoleon. At once, the cat woke up and bared his teeth, waiting to be fed, his emerald eyes flashing dangerously. I wordlessly opened the bag and stuck a bite of bread in his mouth.

Napoleon, slightly suspicious of my motives, chewed on the bread a good long time before swallowing it. That cat had some serious attitude, I must say. But after he swallowed the bread, he deemed it acceptable and lunged towards me, wanting more. James grinned at me and said, "I think you have a fan, Lils."

"He only wants the food," I reminded him, accepting the wriggling cat and giving him more bread.

"He really is a dear," said James, smiling at him. "He's just bloody impatient. And he eats almost as much as you do."

I stuck my tongue out at him and gave Napoleon some more bread. James laughed.

"Hey, you want to sit on my bed and feed him?" he asked.

"Sure," I said.

We both stepped over Sirius, who was still lying on the floor, recovering from the evening's ordeal, and sat on James's bed. I let Napoleon curl up on my thighs and kept feeding him bread. Now that he was fed, Napoleon was quite amiable once again, allowing me to pet his head and rub his tummy. Once the bread was done, Napoleon seemed satiated and seemed ready for a good sleep in my lap. I stroked his back and he purred. This made James chuckle.

"He seems to really like you, Lils," he said, scratching Napoleon's ears affectionately. "You should've seen him with my mum. He's warmed up to you very quickly. If he doesn't like you, he doesn't care how much food you've got. He'll hiss at you."

"I guess I just have a way with cats," I said airily.

"I guess you do," he agreed. "But hey, if you don't put him in his bed now, he won't want to move from your lap – and bad things will happen if you try. I'm going to take him now."

"Go for it," I said, holding up my heads and letting him pluck Napoleon from me.

As he had predicted, the sleepy Napoleon was not thrilled to be taken away from me. He hissed at James quite viciously, and tried to take a swipe at him, but James avoided it and popped him into a little basket full of blankets that was clearly his bed. Napoleon didn't look happy, but he closed his eyes again and curled up, getting comfortable for his snooze. James came back to sit beside me, smiling.

"Thanks," he said genuinely.

"No problem," I said. "I like Napoleon."

"And apparently, he likes you back," he said.

"And…you do too?" I asked, on a complete whim.

He looked at me with a question with his eyes and then I realized what I'd said on a completely random whim – and I was embarrassed. I wasn't sure what had possessed me to say that – I really wasn't – but James took it in stride, his smile becoming almost unbearably lovely. He responded much less boorishly than I had, understanding my meaning almost at once.

"Yes, of course I do," he said. "I mean, I always have, but this year…I dunno. Before, I thought I knew you. But now I'm finding that I don't. And I like getting to know you properly."

I went pink. I don't know why, but at that moment, in the semi-dark of James's room, with Sirius lying on the floor and Napoleon about to go to sleep, the mess of clothes all over the place, I felt like I needed to hear him say that just once to put me at peace.

"Same to you," I said. "You…really aren't the guy I thought you were."

"I guess that's a good thing," he said with a light, easy chuckle.

"Yeah, I guess so." My cheek muscles were starting to hurt with all this smiling; and this time, I went practically red and averted my gaze.

We sat there for a couple more seconds, not sure what to say, until I said, "Hey…I've got to go to bed. I'm kind of tired."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, go ahead," said James, seeming to come out of a trance. "I'm sorry, I forgot. Somehow."

"It's okay," I said, standing up. "But I do have to go."

"That's fine," he said, standing up with me and walking with me to the portrait hole. "Thanks for…well…I dunno…a really fun evening. I enjoyed being with you."

"Right back at you," I said, stepping over Sirius's torso and approaching the hole. The portrait was still ajar (no one ever comes down here besides us anyway) and I got ready to climb out, shyly trying to take in as much of James's face before I could.

"Good night," I said.

"Good night," he replied.

I bit my lip. Now that we'd gotten to this point in our friendship – this milestone, where are letting everything else go and trying to better our weird relationship – I felt like I didn't want to leave him without some final sort of gesture. A hug, or a handshake, or something. Anything. But still something.

He seemed to understand, without my saying anything, what I was getting at. At least, I think he did, because he crossed the room towards me and took my hand, rubbing it sweetly with his thumb, the gesture surprisingly intimate.

"I'll see you in the morning," he kind of whispered into my ear.

Self-conscious, but determined, I gave the hand that was stroking me a little squeeze.

"Okay," I kind of whispered back.

I took my hand away, now armed with what I wanted, and I left his portrait without a glance back. My face was warm and I was smiling again, adrenaline and whatever other hormone makes you happy flooding through my bloodstream. I tried to commit the look on his face when I left his room to memory, feeling this burst of energy explode in my chest, filling me up as though someone was pouring liquid sunshine into me like a bottle.

I came back to my room and I was in such a good mood that I could've skipped. That's why I sat down and wrote – because I needed to get this out, immortalize it with ink and paper, and never forget what went on, how it made me feel.

This morning, when I woke up, I didn't know today would matter as much as it did. This morning, I was just tired and in a mad dash to get to class on time. But now…

I think I ought to go to sleep though. It's past one in the morning and I have to wake up again in just a few hours. Dunno how I'm going to do it, but I have to, and I don't want Livvy on my arse again. Besides, I want enough time to go to breakfast and tell my friends a little bit about what happened tonight.

Not all of it, of course. But some of it. The parts that would interest them, while keeping other stuff to just myself.

I love my friends, don't get me wrong; but sometimes, I don't want their enthusiasm to taint something so personal and fantastic and _ours_. What we are and what we do belong to us and I kind of like keeping things on a low profile.

I am a girl that, for about as long as she can remember, always been kind of well-known in the public circuit. And usually, that's fine with me. But sometimes, I dunno…I want to keep something special to just myself. Everyone is entitled to a few secrets…

Okay, okay. No more musing. Going to bed this time, I swear. I'll write again soon. Wish me luck with class later…

--

A/N: Taking so long to write chapters is bothering me, because now whenever I write, all I can think is CRAP, CRAP, CRAP, in very big letters. So…you've got to deal with it.

But the next chapter should be really fun. It's Lily's birthday! Yay!

So…go on and review and I'll do my best to write ASAP.


	36. I Celebrate my Birthday

A/N: Well, at present, my life sucks. I'm not doing so hot in my classes grade-wise, and I've got too much work to do, and I am exhausted/stressed out of my mind. I can't even bring myself to talk to the people I care about. So it's kind of nice to escape into this world, where at the very least, I can control what's going on and things can still turn out all right. As for myself, I don't really know. We'll see.

But enough of my teenage-girl-angsting. This chapter is as fun as I am not and damn it, I dare you to smile at least once as you read through. People need to smile more. Who says ignorance can't be bliss?

Cheers, you lot.

--

January 30

**Morning Check:**

Today, I didn't actually need the alarm clock – because today, I woke up with a jolt at five o'clock in the morning, springing up like a jack in the box, realizing what day it was.

Today is my eighteenth birthday, finally here.

_Fuck_.

**9:00 AM**  
_Status_: Suspicious

Right now, I am sitting in Charms first period. The bell has just rung. Flitwick is collecting our homework. Alice is sitting next to me on one side, Livvy on the other. They are quiet. Abnormally quiet.

This morning at breakfast, they smiled at me and wished me a happy birthday; but otherwise, that was it. We sat down together at the table and ate. As it's Friday, Livvy prattled on about how she wanted to spend the weekend with Russell, since she hasn't had the opportunity to be with him "properly" for a while. Alice tuned her out in favor of eggs and I kept nudging her.

It was a typical morning.

_Too _typical.

Almost every year on my birthday, as I've already said, things happen to me. There's some kind of fiasco because I've been blessed with friends who care too much. I was on my guard at breakfast to catch the first whiff of trouble, but so far there has been none.

I still don't trust them though, sitting so quietly beside me. Something is going to go down today. Will be on my guard for that.

Possible Ideas for Later Humiliation

1. Fireworks going off in the Great Hall. Easily supplied by Sirius Black.

2. The classic "ask-everyone-in-class-to-sing-happy-birthday-and-embarrass-the-hell-out-of-the-poor-girl" routine. James has used this before in the past and it's overt/hilarious enough for him to consider again.

3. A spontaneous game of Seven Minutes in Heaven after classes. Alice is a particularly enthusiastic supporter of this one – and, knowing her, everyone else would back out at the last minute in order to let me, the birthday girl, snog James Potter. This is – unfortunately – a distinct possibility.

4. Spin the Bottle. Livvy would love this one. Not only would she get an opportunity to watch me snog James by some "coincidence" or another, she would also get an easy shot at snogging Russell in public. She always complains about how she hates having to kiss him in private all the time.

But, then again, my brain doesn't really work well with the whole "evil plots to make other people miserable" train of thought. That's just not me. Still, though, these are plausible theories that I am going to keep in mind the rest of today, because the people I associate with are mad enough to try them out. And I'm sorry to say I'm not exaggerating.

I am so scared.

**11:30 AM**  
_Status_: Slightly more suspicious

I am now in Transfiguration. Thus far, my day has been…normal. I walked with Alice and Livvy to and from class; I feverishly took notes on the day's lectures; I yawned a lot. All very ordinary. I am starting to freak out a little bit.

People have wished me, of course. All of my teachers have given me smiles and said happy birthday. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter have all wished me happy returns of the day, along with accompanying hugs. Adrianna, Sean, and Robert all found me this morning and wished me, as did most of the prefects – Mavis, Jonathon, Kate, Trey, Annie, and Will.

Jonathon actually tried to hold my hand and walk down the remainder of the corridor towards this class with me, but I shook him off by muttering something about needing to ask McGonagall about the homework and fleeing. And I have yet to tell Alice and Livvy why I looked like I could fry an egg on my face when I walked into the room.

But this is all extremely normal. I'm not sure why nothing else is, though. It's not like I want all this fanfare, but at the same time…I kind of expect it.

Knowing them as I do, I somehow don't believe that this will finally be the year that my friends respect my wishes and leave me alone. Will keep an eye out for shady behavior throughout the remainder of the afternoon.

**3:45 PM**  
_Status_: In disbelief

Classes are over now. The significant part of the day is over. And the only vaguely embarrassing thing that happened was Slughorn jovially wishing me in the middle of the Potions while we were in the middle of brewing something – which, I mean, he does every year, so I didn't particularly care.

Is it for real? Is it true? I'm being left alone, for once in my life?

It's too good to be true. I took a visit to the common room and it was bustling with normal afternoon activity, students running around and attempting to make headway in their homework. There was no party to be had there.

So…I was safe. For real.

And all I can say is hallelujah!

Honestly, I was so worried for so long that something weird would happen, just because I turned eighteen today. But nothing has and I'm so glad that my friends have pulled this miracle and kept themselves under control. It means more to me than anything they could've done.

Now that the danger is all over, I'm going to go chill for the rest of the evening, doing some work before dinner and patrol. Just another day in my glamorous life – which is how I like it.

Until later, then!

-

January 31

**3:30 AM**  
_Status_: Exhausted and exhilarated

Okay, okay. Looking back on my previous entries from what is officially yesterday, my birthday, I can see that I really was an ignorant, naïve, idealistic fool.

How could I honestly think that James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Alice, and Livvy could resist an opportunity in the middle of a beastly year to make noise and celebrate a particular milestone in my life?

How could I base my assumptions off of the mere afternoon hours? All the big stuff always happens at night, particularly when we're not supposed to be out of bed.

I am so incredibly stupid. Allow me to explain how this whole misery came to pass.

So, after classes, I went up to my dormitory to do homework with Alice and Livvy – Livvy wasn't in the mood to endure the ruckus of the common room. It was nice and quiet in my room, with plenty of space for us to spread out and talk and snuggle pillows and complain about all we had to do. We did that all the time and tonight was no exception to the rule; and at seven, we had a quick dinner and came back upstairs to finish off the last of our work. Since it's Friday, Livvy has trained me and Alice to finish everything so that we can slack off in peace for the rest of the weekend.

Everything was going just fine until nine o'clock, when we heard the knock on the portrait.

"Who is that?" asked Livvy, looking up from her Potions book.

"James," I said. "He's the only one who visits me in here besides you two."

Sighing, I got up and checked my watch. It was indeed time to go to patrol – I'd lost track of the time. I cleared my throat and opened the portrait to reveal James, smiling in that amusingly mischievous way he has.

"Hey," he said. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," I said. Then I called to my friends, "You lot can stay as long as you want – I'll be back in about an hour and a half."

"Right, Lils."

"See you later, Lily!"

Alice and Livvy merrily waved good-bye to me and remained on my floor with their books, as I departed down the corridor with James. The two of us were alone.

"So," said James after a minute or two of this. "Had a good birthday today?"

"Yes, in fact I did," I said, beaming. "It's been lovely, and quiet, and absolutely wonderful. Thanks for asking."

"I did keep my promise," he reminded me. "You know, the one where I said I wouldn't do anything embarrassing for your birthday."

"Yes, you did keep it," I said approvingly, "and I'm so pleased that you did."

"Hey, so long as it makes you happy." He gave me a dazzlingly bright smile, and I returned it, until all of a sudden, he cursed under his breath.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"It's nothing, I just forgot my sweater in the common room," he said. "D'you mind coming and getting it with me? I swear, it'll only be a minute."

I considered the offer, but it didn't take long to make a decision, with those enormous hazel eyes of his staring beseechingly at me all the while. I sighed and said, "All right."

"Thanks." James's dazzling smile returned to his face and he led me back in the direction of the Gryffindor common room.

Now let the records show – after yesterday afternoon, I didn't think anything was going to happen in the evening. I really didn't. I believed that James had to go get his sweater and I was completely unaware as he said the password, the portrait swinging open.

So I got the biggest shock of my life when we got inside and the whole common room was decorated, with pretty much every Gryffindor in the school crammed in there chorusing, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LILY!" upon our entrance.

My jaw dropped. I was literally in shock.

"How…w-wha…?" I stared at them, trying to make this click in my thoroughly confused brain. "A…a party? Seriously?"

"Yes," said James, beaming even brighter. "Happy birthday, Lils!"

And he gave me a hug.

This obviously started the queue to come and give me hugs, wish me a happy birthday, freak out a little bit. I was still dazed with astonishment, drifting from person to person, unsure of how to receive this.

I mean, it was very sweet to do this for me, but at the same time, they all knew how much I didn't want it.

Finally, somewhere in the crowd, I located Alice and Livvy, who were grinning away at me, looking very cheeky. I automatically went to them and rolled my eyes.

"You dolts," I accused somewhat-playfully. "How could you do this to me? This is so humiliating!"

"We wanted it to be a surprise," explained Alice, glee in her tone.

"I made James promise he wouldn't humiliate me," I groaned.

"Yes, you did – so he wasn't involved," said Livvy. "I mean, we came to him initially, before you made him promise, and he agreed he wanted to do something for you this year. But afterwards, he told me he didn't want to break his word to you and he didn't have anything else to do with it. We just needed him to lure you back to the common room tonight."

"Hey, birthday girl!" This was Sirius, walking over with Peter and Remus, all three of them grinning away at me like my friends were. "How goes it? Pleased with our ickle surprise?"

"Sirius did most of it," said Alice. "He's a good party planner. He smuggled all the necessary items from the kitchens, Hogsmeade, everywhere."

"I know people," said Sirius, his handsome face lighting up with mischief.

"I was in charge of decorating," said Remus, "and making everyone swear not to let anything on to you."

"I helped Sirius nick things," added Peter proudly. "And I came up with the idea of doing it at this time, when James could bring you back to the common room instead of going to patrol."

"Very creative, guys," I said, unable to keep from smiling. "Thanks."

I hugged the whole group in turn, feeling too affectionate for their eager effort to hex them on the spot for disobeying my wishes, until I heard a voice behind me while hugging Livvy.

"Hey, where's my proper hug? I gave you a good one and all I got was a limp little pat on the shoulder, for Merlin's sake!"

I whirled around and there was James again, his lazy grin too adorable to take in without laughing.

"Hi, I'm sorry," I said. "Livvy told me how good you were about not taking part in this madness and I thank you for it."

This pleased him, but he didn't need words to tell me so – I could see it in his face. He couldn't stop smiling and his cheer was intoxicating. A grin on my own face, I leapt forward and gave him an extra-tight hug, which he gratefully returned, squeezing me sweetly.

Livvy and Alice embarrassed me by starting a chorus of, "Awww" among the people around me, but I ignored them and held him even tighter, the smell of him sweet, like laundry soap. We hugged for several more seconds before he gently shook me off.

"Okay, I gotta go," said James apologetically. "I have to get the cake out and get Sirius to start up the music. See you later."

I opened my mouth to say something, protest at this, but Livvy was expecting it. Quick as a flash, she covered my mouth with her hand and told me to shut up and let him do his thing. Alice then held her wand to my temple and listed a whole bunch of things I wasn't allowed to do tonight, among them things like avoiding attention, getting embarrassed, not eating as much cake as I wanted. This successfully filled up the five minutes necessary for James and Sirius to recapture the party-goers' attentions and get the real party started.

With a wolf-whistle that had to be magically-enhanced, Sirius shouted, "Okay, Gryffindors. Before we let you go off and have the time of your lives tonight, please embarrass the hell out of our birthday girl, currently standing right there, with one big rendition of happy birthday! Ready?"

Yes, they were ready; and yes, they did sing to me at the top of their lungs, everyone's eyes on me as I blushed deeply and wished I could sink through the floor or something. Too bad Apparition isn't allowed within school walls…

However, the trauma wasn't over yet. Once the crowd was done singing, Peter dragged me up to the table Sirius was standing on and Remus pulled out the cake, an enormous mountain sopping with chocolate and sporting eighteen candles. Of course, with Alice and Livvy in their arsenal, the boys had quickly learned that I have a chocolate addiction that borders on clinical, so they got me something I absolutely wouldn't be able to resist, no matter what I did.

The candles were lit and with everyone cheering and whooping, I blew them out (which took a while, because Sirius and James had gotten the trick ones that keep coming back, probably as a joke) and the cake was cut. Once the Gryffindors were supplied with cake and butterbeer, and Sirius got the music going, the party quickly went into full swing, people swaying and laughing and throwing food in each other's faces. Cake was very easy finger food to do that with.

Still, though, I ended up having a blast. For a while, I didn't see the Marauders, but I saw plenty of other people I knew, and I danced along with them, enjoying myself as I had not at the Halloween party, back in October.

Of course, Livvy located Russell partway through the first song and gave him a massive snog, since no one was watching, and proceeded to dancing with him. And, of course, Alice located Frank, gave him a massive snog for no good reason at all, and danced a couple of songs with him. But tonight, I didn't care, because they were near me, and still talking to me, and being _with _me in the important senses of the word.

Everything was going absolutely wonderfully. It really was. But I did run into a spot of trouble a bit later on, when we'd broken into the party a bit more and I was feeling pleasantly fuzzy and warm with all the butterbeer.

Sirius had decided to slow it down a bit, because people were starting to get a little drunk and could use a slight break; so he (a little drunk himself) announced at the mike that we were going to have a slow couples dance, just once before we sped things back up again. Most of the audience was very responsive to this – they were always happy for a chance to snuggle.

Livvy, obviously, paired off with Russell and Alice with Frank, which left me without a partner. I wasn't fussed or anything – I could easily sit this one down, let my aching feet rest and appease my throat with some pumpkin juice – but I was surprised when Jonathon Sanders turned up beside me, grinning.

"Hey, Lily," he said easily. He smelled sticky, like spilled champagne a few hours later. "How are you?"

"Fine," I said, narrowing my eyes at him. "But how did you get in? I thought this was a Gryffindor's party only."

"I know," said Jonathon carelessly. "But I got Annie Potent to sneak me in. She snuck in a whole bunch of people."

"I see." I wasn't convinced – I mean, pretty much all of us at the prefect meetings know that Annie Potent has a small crush on Jonathon – but I wasn't in the mood to discuss prefect love. I took a pointed sip of my drink, burying my face into my cup and hoping this would convey my meaning, but either it was a bad hint or Jonathon just didn't care. Either way, he spoke again.

"So…I was trying to catch hold of you all evening," he said. "It's been hard. You're always surrounded by people."

"It does tend to happen," I admitted after resurfacing. "Sorry."

"Anyway, I have your birthday present," he said, producing two impressively-sized boxes from inside his robes. "Happy eighteenth."

Despite how sleazy he could be sometimes, I was honestly touched when I accepted the gift.

Blushing, I said, "Wow, Jonathon. That's so sweet of you. I don't even know what to say."

"You can say…sure, Jonathon," he suggested.

"And why would I say that?" I asked.

"Because I'm about to ask you to dance with me to that slow song," he informed me. "Want to?"

"Erm…"

Damn. I was thoroughly embarrassed by the way he looked at me then – a little expectant, a little hopeful, a little eager. The familiar feeling of guilt that I always felt when he spoke to me came back as pungently as ever, and my sympathy won over my good sense.

"Okay," I gave in. "Hang on…"

I put a Banishing Charm on the presents, sending them back to my dormitory where they wouldn't get lost. They whizzed away, through the portrait, and I was left with only Jonathon, gazing at me as he did. I tried my best to smile.

"Right…so…"

Jonathon merely nodded and began leading me away – when, all of a sudden, James becomes visible, parting through the throng of people with a radiant smile on his face.

"_There _you are, Lils!" he called out cheerfully. "I was wondering, d'you mind if I take this dance with…"

I opened my mouth to say something – anything – a greeting, or an apology, or some form of acknowledgement that I was happy to see him – but Jonathon beat me to the punch.

"Sorry, James," he said rather coolly, "but Lily's dancing with me this time."

James looked rather thunderstruck, as if Jonathon had slapped him or something. I felt bad (and thoroughly embarrassed – again) and I wanted to say something, but Jonathon's smile was steel.

"Again, sorry," he said in a tone that wasn't very sorry.

James looked at him oddly for a second, but otherwise got his stride back, and cleared his throat.

"Right," he said, very dignified. "Right, of course. Sorry about that. Go ahead. Have a good one."

This was all Jonathon needed to make his quick escape, my wrist enclosed in his grip. I turned around, attempting to say something to James, apologize for Jonathon's silly (and probably drink-fueled behavior) but I didn't get a chance. Jonathon pulled me away into the abyss of the dance floor and I had to leave James behind, watching me curiously.

Obviously, this made me uncomfortable, but I was unable to do anything about it. I was already in the middle of the sweaty, slowly rotating group of couples dancing to the appropriately cheesy song Sirius had playing. Jonathon's posture was suddenly impeccable and he got into waltzing position, holding my hand and my waist with a pleased sort of excitement.

Sighing, I accepted the weight of his hands. He was taller than me by a couple of inches, despite being two years younger than me, and I had to admit he was kind of good-looking in the ambiguous lighting, his cheeky smile still on me. But only kind of.

"This is nice," he remarked a couple of minutes later.

"What is?" I asked.

"Dancing to this lame song here with you," he said without missing a beat.

I blushed. "Well…I'm glad you're happy."

"It feels like it's been a long time since I've been alone with you," said Jonathon.

"Well, we're not exactly alone," I pointed out.

"Yeah, yeah, if you want to be technical," he said impatiently. "But I mean, in general, you're always talking to other people and I can't get in a one-on-one conversation with you. And I don't like that. Every time I catch you in the corridors, or try to pull you aside after a prefect meeting, you seem to be otherwise engaged."

"I can't help that," I said, the tiniest bit miffed.

"No, you can't, and that's fine," said Jonathon. "But I'm just acknowledging the fact that I don't spend much time with you. That's why I got Annie Potent to smuggle into this party. I wanted to talk to you on your birthday, at the very least, and give you my present in person."

In spite of myself, I smiled. I'm a huge sucker for flattery. "That was nice of you," I said.

I was distinctly aware of the hand on my waist pulling me in just a little bit closer, the smell of him becoming a little bit more concentrated in my nose, the music building just a little bit more, as though playing along with this bizarre conversation.

"You know, I've always really liked you, Lily," breathed Jonathon, his voice so soft and husky that I could barely hear it over the rest of the noise in the common room.

"I…like you too, Jonathon," I said, unnerved.

"I mean, I _really _like you," he said, pulling me even closer. "And…I dunno…we've already been on a date and we seemed to have fun…and I think we're good together…so maybe we should take this a step farther…"

And then he started to lean into me, coming so close that his heat practically spilled into me. I was utterly disconcerted, the whole scene too vividly unreal to qualify as reality, but Jonathon was coming and coming and coming and he was so brash, he was going in for the kiss…

I didn't want to kiss him. I really didn't want to. He was too young, he was not my type, he was just a boy with a puppy-crush on an authority figure, he was not going to factor into the rest of my future; but somehow, with the music and the lights and the people and the sweat and the anticipation blooming in my stomach, I didn't move away as I should have.

As a result, Jonathon came forward and closed the last gap of distance between us, finally arriving, his lips connected with mine.

Being a guy, Jonathon was utterly delighted with his victory and deepened the kiss from its initial lightness very quickly. The hand that had been on my waist moved to the small of my back as he pulled me in against his chest, clumsily attempting to explore me with his teenage mouth. It wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been, but the moment he tried to use his tongue, I was ready to stop.

I tried to pull away, but he somehow mistook this for a sign of passion, and fought to kiss me even harder. His hand was practically shoving my torso into his with his might, but I was done. I wasn't going to be part of this kiss anymore. Again, I tried to pull away, and this time I succeeded, managing to break the connection and get myself back.

I looked at Jonathon and I could practically see the ecstasy in his eyes. To him, that was ideal, the biggest victory he could've hoped for tonight.

To him, my kissing him was confirmation that I was his and he could be mine.

But this wasn't so and I couldn't let him think so. The time to be patient with him had ended. We were going down dangerous roads and it was up to me to set him straight before I broke his heart for real later on.

"Look, Jonathon," I began.

"No, Lily, you don't have to say anything," he said. "Really. I get it."

And he started to do that leaning thing again.

However, this time, he didn't get what he wanted – I raised my index finger and placed it on his lips before he could come any closer.

"No," I said in a surprisingly commanding voice. "Listen to me."

"Okay…" He was disconcerted, I knew, but this had to be done. This had to be said. I couldn't keep letting this go on as it was – it was too wrong, for me as well as him.

"Look, Jonathon," I restarted, a little more kindly, "I…we aren't…I'm not about to be your girlfriend and you might as well give up the fantasy, because we aren't going anywhere. Never. Not at all. And you have to understand that."

"But…you went on that date with me," said Jonathon, befuddled and upset as I knew he would be. "You just kissed me."

"I know," I said. "I went on the date because you wanted to and I figured I'd be nice. And kissing you…was a mistake. I'm sorry I did it. I shouldn't have led you on like that."

Jonathon abruptly let go of me, running his hand through his hair, darkness flashing in his blue eyes.

"But…you…I could've sworn you liked me back," he said, almost pleadingly.

"I like you, Jonathon, but not in that way," I said as gently as I could. "You're a good guy, just not the right one for me. Do you get that?"

"Yeah…I guess." Now he was starting to get quite disgruntled. "I can't believe it. I really thought…I dunno, that you were into it too."

"I wasn't, and it wasn't fair of me not to tell you earlier, and I hope you can forgive me for that," I said honestly. "You're a nice guy, Jonathon. I like spending time with you and I want to be friends. But if your aims are romantic, then we can't do that."

"Fine," he said, a definite edge to his voice now. "We can be friends."

"I'm glad," I said as sincerely as I could be without sounding contrived. "Really. I want to be your friend."

"You could be more than that," he reminded me bitterly.

"I'm sure there's some other girl out there that will," I said. "But I'm not her."

"You can be," he said. "If you want. Just say the word, Lily, and we can be whatever you want."

"Then we stay friends," I said firmly. "All right?"

"All right."

As we shook on this new resolution, the song around us ended, the couples disentangling and getting ready for the next fast song. Relieved that I had not gotten myself into anything worse, I prepared myself to go get myself some pumpkin juice, when Jonathon called me back on a whim.

"Hey, Lily," he shouted.

"Yeah?" I shouted back.

"This doesn't have anything to do with James Potter, does it?" he asked.

Bewildered, I said, "No! Of course not!"

This seemed to pacify him, and he walked away happy, but I was even more freaked out than I had been earlier. I went to get myself that drink and attempted to forget his last remark, as outlandish as it was.

Of course my lack of attraction to him had nothing to do with anyone but him. Why did he ask such silly questions?

Anyway, I quickly returned to the dance floor, where Alice, Livvy, Russell, and Frank were all four dancing in a circle with a couple of other people. I slipped in and danced with them, almost colliding into and knocking over Russell, who sweetly saved me by turning it into a twirl. We had a good load of fun, messing around and laughing at each other and dancing.

We were all being idiots and that was the way we wanted it, the only way we've ever wanted it. The scene funneled in on only us and therefore, my whole world became only us, our smiling faces and the warmth that came from having the time of our lives with people we loved. It felt so good to be there, so rich and full and wonderful, being there with my friends and the people that meant so much to them.

If I could pick any moment to be my forever, it would be that – us five, our happiness so purely and wholly complete.

For the remainder of the night, I really didn't see James or any of the other Marauders. They were all busy with friends and lives of their own. I was on the look-out for James, of course, hoping to make sure he knew I didn't mean anything by the Jonathon encounter earlier, but he was nowhere to be found.

I thought I caught a glimpse of him, just once, dancing with Jane Carlton, but it could've been some other tall guy with messy black hair and glasses. I mean, realistically, there have to be other people that look something like that.

Anyway, the party ended round about two in the morning, when people were too tired from dancing to do anything more. Slowly, groups of three and four began to haul themselves upstairs to the dormitories, done with partying and ready for bed, and my group was among the last to go. Livvy and Alice kissed Russell and Frank good night, sending them off to the boys' dormitory, while joining me in mine, because Alice said she had a surprise for me. We stumbled down the corridors, praying we wouldn't get caught by anyone, and collapsed on my floor the moment we got in, thoroughly exhausted.

It turned out that Alice's surprise for me was a heap of presents that had come for me throughout the day. She had made sure they were hidden safely throughout the day and brought here just before the party so I could have them and open them. I thought it was absolutely lovely of her and decided I would open them all at once.

Here is a list of this year's haul:

Mum and Dad: Fifty pounds (must get that changed), chocolates  
Petunia: Another box of chocolates  
Jonathon: Charms for the charm bracelet he gave me for Christmas, chocolates  
Livvy: A screaming planner, chocolates  
Alice: Hair clips, a decorative quill, pretty stationary paper, chocolates  
(Clearly, I have a year's supply of comfort chocolate, should I ever have a bad day and need it)

I was particularly astonished to find a box from James, addressed to me in his obnoxiously sloppy handwriting, but Livvy dismissively said he'd had it ready for me ages ago. It turned out to be a huge box of chocolates…and a little stuffed lizard.

Recalling the hilarious scene in the corridor, when we encountered that damn lizard and freaked, I burst out laughing and cuddled it to my chest, delighted that he had remembered.

Alice and Livvy were particularly enthralled by the gift given to me by Jonathon, since they had known already about James's. I then told them about the situation that happened at the dance, to which they both reacted quite strongly.

"Oh, Lily, you foolish prat!" shouted Alice, whacking me with the chocolate Petunia had given me. "You were supposed to kiss _James_, not fucking _Jonathon_!"

"Lils, you broke his heart, that's not right!" wailed Livvy, whacking me with James's lizard. "Why did you let him kiss you if you weren't interested? He clearly thought he had a chance – one you mercilessly crushed with the 'I don't like you but let's be friends' idea. Don't you _know _that means you've given him hope for another chance?"

"You two are delirious with drinking and dancing!" I hollered at them. "Stop _hitting _me with that corner, Alice – Livvy, put that lizard down – I don't know why I kissed him, but all I know is, we're through and he knows it. He's going to leave me alone now, which is the point of the story. And it's already done, what's lecturing me going to do?"

"Apparently nothing," said Livvy. "What did you go and do that for? You're so thoughtless, Lily!"

"What, and you're the queen of logic, I presume?" I inquired, stung.

"No, but at the very least, I don't kiss guys that I'm not about to pursue," retorted Livvy.

"You guys, it was one kiss!" I insisted.

"One kiss that meant the world to a fifteen-year-old prefect," Alice pointed out.

"You're mental! Both of you!" I proclaimed.

The argument continued on for several minutes, Alice and Livvy utterly distressed by the choices I made, but I was adamant and so were they and eventually, we were so tired that we lost interest. I packed my presents away nicely, thanked the girls for a great night and sent them off to their dormitories, ready for some alone time, after the madness I'd endured. Jonathon and James and cakes and presents and parties all loomed on my thoughts and I was happy in a way I wasn't sure I'd be, once the whole ordeal was through.

I know I've always hated celebrating my birthday; but even I have to admit, there is a certain joy in it, knowing that you're another year older, another year wiser, another year with people who love you and don't mind shattering your wishes to show you how much. Even though my friends are idiots sometimes, there was a lot of love put into that party and I appreciated it, despite how much I blushed and smiled throughout the course of the night.

I'm exhausted, and I didn't get exactly what I wanted for my birthday, but I think I got something better and that made it all worthwhile. I am going to sleep warm and fuzzy in these early hours of Saturday, January thirty-first, and thank Merlin that I don't have to deal with school tomorrow. I'm just going to sleep.

So…there's that. My eyes are too tired to look down anymore, my hands too cramped and my brain about ready to hold a coup. I've written down everything I needed to write and I feel good. Plus, it's getting near six in the morning – which is actually pretty frightening.

Good night/morning, then. I shall write again soon. I hope.

--

A/N: And there you have it. I had such a bad week, I ditched everything and wrote my heart out for about three hours, effectively finishing this in a burst of happy inspiration. Much more fun that doing the rest of what I have to do this evening. Plus, you get an update earlier than you thought you would.

Please forgive any stray typos that may catch your eye. I'm the world's laziest editor - sometimes, I don't even edit - and well, I just trust that you understand what I mean and that the content as a whole makes up for my mistakes.

So I hope this was fun for you guys, lived up to your expectations, and I pray you'll review and make my crappy day a little less crappy. I could use less crap in my life. I'm a junior, remember?

Cheers!


	37. I Muse Upon Danger

A/N: This chapter is pretty much short filler, but I think it's kind of necessary. I do want to get into some stuff about the war against Voldemort, because it's important to later parts of the story. I've been trying to slip it in as we went, very much in passing, but this time I've put a spotlight on it because I think it's important to address. War is a big deal.

So…I hope you like this. It's a tad bit different pace-wise.

--

February 2

**9:30 PM**  
_Status_: Brooding

Eurgh. I am so _done _with _everything_.

For the past few weeks, I thought I had my work situation under control. I really did. I was getting things done, understanding the course work and getting it fairly correct. And now…now I don't even know. I'm back under my avalanche and I can't focus and I'm so miserable for it. I hate not knowing what I'm doing. All the lovely happiness from my birthday this weekend has quickly evaporated after this hellish Monday.

There's too much to do and I can't bring myself to deal with it. It's as simple as that. So, at present, I am sitting by the fire in the Gryffindor common room. James and I managed to sweet-talk two other prefects into taking our patrol for tonight, therefore giving us a well-deserved break (James for Quidditch and me for just breathing). The common room is empty, though, because no one's in the mood to loiter.

Because of this, I actually have company. Sirius mentioned that Napoleon was getting a bit restless again, being confined to his hiding place in James's dormitory, so I rescued him tonight and he is currently sitting on my lap like a furry little table, purring as I simultaneously stroke him and write in here.

It's only Monday, and yet a bunch of things have been going through my mind, and I feel like there's no place in which to confide them. I love Alice and Livvy, but they can't help me with this one. No one really can.

See, earlier this afternoon, I was walking to History of Magic after lunch. I was alone, because I was on my way to the bathroom and Alice and Livvy were off to the classroom, and I turned a corridor to see a highly unpleasant sight:

Severus and a small, obnoxious-looking crowd of his friends were muttering in low, scary voices to a lower-school student that I know for a fact is a Muggleborn – and that little boy looked like he was about to piss his pants with fear.

At first, I was unsure of how to react. But then I saw Avery menacingly stick his wand into the kid's gut and I felt my temper rise so fast that I was almost frightened of myself. My gut twisting, I remembered that I was a Head Girl, and I marched up to the boys, clearing my throat.

"What the hell is going on over here?" I inquired. My voice was shaky only out of anger.

"Evans," sneered Mulciber, rolling his eyes at me. "What do you want?"

"What I just said," I snapped back. "I want to know what the hell is going on over here."

"Nothing," said Avery. "Run along, now."

"Ten points from Slytherin," I said, crossing my arms. "I'm the Head Girl, so I demand that you tell me what the hell is going on."

"Nothing," said Avery again, this time withdrawing his wand, the group opening so that the little boy had more room to breathe.

"Good," I said curtly. "Let's keep it that way."

I turned my attention to the little boy. He looked at me like I was some goddess from the skies and I couldn't help but smile a bit.

"Go on," I told him. "Go to your next class."

Gratefully, the boy scurried off, leaving me alone with the Slytherin gang. Snape was obviously among them, but he had not yet spoken. I really didn't think he would. I refused to catch his eye as I glared into Avery's hateful face.

"Leave the Muggleborns alone," I told them, soft but cool and hard.

"Fine, we won't bother the Mudbloods, if it pleases you," said Mulciber with a snort.

The usual chill shot down my spine as he said that hideous word, but I did my best to hide it, glaring at him as I was.

"You had better not," I told him. "There can be serious consequences for harassing students."

"All right, Evans," said Avery in the same tone as Mulciber. "We'll clean up our acts, we swear. Now get lost."

I narrowed my eyes. "Five more points from Slytherin," I announced before I walked off, seething, my blood boiling.

I know the Pureblood thing has been a bit more prevalent than usual lately, as this war with You Know Who gets worse and worse, but I had never really seen it happen in the castle until now, particularly with one of my ex-best friends tagging along like some filthy puppy dog.

I hear whispers of bad things happening when I actually take a flip through the newspaper, but seeing proof with my own eyes…that made everything so much realer to me. The big, ambiguous war – the one so few people talk about – is suddenly starting to seep into the world I know, the one in here. It's starting to divide up my school, the place I love so dearly.

I'm so caught up in the intricacies of my own life that sometimes I forget there's a cold, complicated world out there, too, and it affects every facet of my existence, if I dare to look close enough. What other horrible things am I going to see, as I grow up in a place so uncertain? How more encounters like the one I had this afternoon am I going to face as the days plod on? It's really difficult to say.

I'm deathly afraid, to be quite honest. I mean, I know I'm not really part of this conflict, but I feel like I could be, if my luck decides to change, just for a moment. I have not forgotten that I am a Muggleborn myself – which means I could be hunted, like that little boy in the corridor, and taken from the face of the earth, from the people I love, simply because of my ancestry.

I don't like knowing there are people who want me dead just because I didn't come from their world. I'm just as good as any of the Purebloods or half-bloods here. I'm the top of my class, which has all sorts of different people in it. I have friends that sport extremely varied ancestry and they're all wonderful people. Why should it matter where you come from, so long as people are glad you're here?

I've never understood that. Never. It doesn't make any sense to me. But I mean, much of what people – Wizards and Muggles alike – do doesn't make much sense, so I suppose it's just one of those things that you fight to finish, no matter what.

These thoughts have kind of haunted me throughout the afternoon. I could feel their weight in my stomach, heavy and so obvious, as I went about the rest of my day, and I felt fragile, in a way. I longed to tell someone about it, but I couldn't – somehow, it felt wrong, inviting my friends into these fears and insecurities.

Alice, as far as I know, is a Pureblood, while Livvy is a half-blood. Both of them have parents who can do magic. They've never had to worry that people will hate them for being part of this world. They don't understand how it is to be considered an outsider to magic, as I and the other Muggleborns do. I mean, they do understand some of it, but it's difficult to put yourself in a situation where you're the one some people hate, where you know that you're going to run into problems with people who take this stuff seriously.

We live in a highly insulated environment here at Hogwarts. Blood prejudice and Dark magic don't seem to exist here. The usual scuffles of young people learning magic together ensue, of course, but otherwise, everyone's fine and getting along. But it's not like that once we leave and experience what it is to be an adult Out There and I find that I don't think I'm ready to leave the comfort and protection of Hogwarts. I don't want to put myself out there and have to wonder at my own security.

There are a lot of particularly bad people out there right now and the idea that our paths could cross terrifies me more than I can say.

I know this mood will pass, that I'm going to forget about it and be okay and live on, but I don't know. I really just don't know. I don't think this issue is something I can evade for too much longer, considering everything. I graduate school in just four more months.

But, either way, I do think it's time for bed. I'm tired, it's past ten now, and I need to drop Napoleon off in James's dormitory. Hopefully he's still awake, or else Napoleon will have to camp out with me tonight. We'll see how that goes.

Good night for now, then. I'll write again as soon as I can.

--

A/N: Now, never fear, ladies and gentlefolk – the next three chapters will feature some very fun development revolving around the idea of…drumroll please…Valentine's Day!

While Christmas was slow growth for various love affairs, V-Day is different, involving some further cuteness for Alice/Frank, some difficult questions for Livvy/Russell, and some earthquake-like-rumbles for Lily/James.

And, as for the proper LJ action (which I knew you were going to ask about), my outline has declared that Chapter 44 brings us an ultimatum and Chapter 46 resolves the ultimatum. But that doesn't mean this story – or their story – is over.

So…stuff is coming up, I swear. But plotting things is (as I'm sure you've noticed) not one of my strong points, so some chapters do feel a lot slower than others. I'm trying, obviously, but I pray you forgive my missteps and trust me for the rest of it.

Cheers, guys! You're the best!


	38. I Fear Valentine's Day

A/N: This chapter is introducing Valentine's Day, but also catches up with an important question I've been ignoring about Russell and Livvy. Plus, there's a bit of James-ness – we get some closure on the birthday party deal with Jonathon. So I hope you guys like this!

Cheers!

--

February 5

**9:30 AM**  
_Status_: Frazzled

It.

Has.

_Begun_.

Yes. Two of the most intense weeks known to Hogwarts, the time has arrived. The fever has started to spread. Evidence is sprinkled in around the corridors.

Valentine's Day season is officially upon us.

Now, see, for me, it usually isn't a big deal. I mean, I just don't care. Valentine's Day is Valentine's Day – it's not that much different from any other day, except that people use it as a pinnacle point for their various relationships. But for my friends this year, it's kind of a bigger deal. We've been discussing the matter this morning, starting over breakfast.

"So…can you believe Valentine's Day is only in nine days?" asked Alice, buttering a piece of toast. "The only thing is, it's on a Friday, so the teachers have the Hogsmeade visit on the weekend rather than on the actual day."

"It's not such a big deal," I said fairly. "I mean, putting it off one day isn't going to kill anyone. Besides, it gives people more time to get a date. Twenty-four hours can do a lot."

Livvy sighed. "I just don't know what I'm going to do about Russell this year," she said. "I mean, I've never been in a forbidden relationship before and I'm _sure _James will be in the village that way, or someone else who's on the Quidditch team. They could see me and bad things could happen."

"I've always said you're taking a very silly line on all this," I said wisely, taking a sip of my orange juice. "Livs, you can't keep hiding this from James. He'll be pissed at you for lying to him for…how long has it been now, six months?"

"Four," corrected Livvy promptly.

"Well, it certainly feels like a long time," I concluded. "And you know James as well as I do – he hates it when people lie to him."

"If you really love Russell, your relationship will survive James," added Alice. "How much do you love Russell, Livvy?"

"Too much," Livvy announced.

"Exactly – so trust him, trust yourself, and trust James," I said. "Tell him. Make things right."

"James has been passing hints that he doesn't approve of inter-team relationships lately," said Livvy, pained. "He's kind of formidable when it comes to his team. He's not going to take this lightly. He might even kick us out."

"No, he won't – if you tell him," I said. "But if you don't tell him, he'll want to take more drastic measures."

"He'll do that no matter what, you don't know how he is when it comes to Quidditch," said Livvy, "and Quidditch matters to me, too. You two, Russell, and Quidditch are all I live for when I'm here. I don't want that balance to tip."

"Livs…" I was about to say something else, when Russell himself came over, grinning at Livvy.

"Hey," he said, leaning down to kiss Livvy. "Tonight, then?"

"Yeah, in the common room, right at nine," she said. "Now come here, I wasn't finished."

Grinning wider, Russell descended back down to Livvy's mouth and she kissed him slowly, richly, as though preparing for the rest of the hours she couldn't have him. They remained attached for about a minute, with me and Alice rolling our eyes and eating toast; but after that minute, Alice snapped, "Oh, please! Get your tongues out of each other's throats and move on with your lives!"

At once, Livvy disengaged from Russell and they both looked at Alice with astonishment. Alice was not the slightest bit fazed.

"No, I'm serious!" she insisted. "Stop that!"

Russell blinked a couple of times, unsure of how to respond to this. Livvy, however, gave him a touch on the arm to tell him to leave, rounding on Alice once her unfortunate boyfriend was safely out of earshot.

"What're you going on about?" demanded Livvy.

"Well, every time I see you with Russell, you're always making out with him," said Alice, standing her ground quite impressively. "You've always got your tongue in his mouth and he lets you. I mean, when was the last time you talked _properly_, for more than five minutes, about something that worried you, or made you happy, or caught your attention?"

"Russell and I talk all the time," said Livvy haughtily. "You're talking through your hat."

"I'm not," said Alice calmly. "Honestly. When was your last conversation?"

Livvy considered a moment. There was a slight crease between her eyebrows as she said, "Well, I mean, we talk during class and during practice all the time, because everyone knows we're friends, at the very least. But we never get to do any of the cuddly couple stuff until the evening, when we're alone."

"So you mean to tell me you consider the regular, everyday nonsense to be your real conversation?" Alice was utterly incredulous.

"No!" said Livvy hastily, going pink. "I mean, like…we don't get time to be a proper couple, you know, holding hands and stuff, until we're alone and so that's what we do when we're alone."

"That's not a proper relationship," Alice shot at her. "You and Russell are only concerned with the physical aspect – you don't have enough _love _in you."

Until this point, I had been silent, letting my friends argue this out, since Alice obviously had a point that was worrying her and Livvy had to respond; but now, with this allegation bringing a raw outrage to the air between us friends, I knew I had to speak up. So I did.

"Alice, that's a little harsh – and unwarranted," I said. "You and I don't know what Russell and Livvy talk about when they're together, we have no right to judge—"

"Go on, tell me it isn't true, Livs," said Alice, ignoring me. "You don't care who he is, what he wants or hates or fears – you just want to feel him next to you!"

"That's not true!" Livvy shot back, sharp ice in her brown eyes. "And that's not fair, either! Lily's right, you have absolutely no idea as to the intricacies of our relationship, you have no right to judge—"

"I absolutely do!" Alice cut in. "If I, as your friend, see something the matter, I tell you so that it doesn't come back to bite your arse later. And I'm telling you now, you and Russell are all about the physical. You don't talk, you don't date, you don't do anything except snog the lights out of each other at night. That's not love – that's need."

"You're absolutely—"

"No," said Alice, interrupting again. "When you love someone, Livvy, you don't stow them away to snog in the wee hours of the morning. You are both cowards, happy with your hits when no one can see you, and you don't want to face up to the truth. If you can't handle the effects of your relationship, trust each other to get through this, then you're not for real. It's as simple as that."

"Russell is everything to me," Livvy snapped. "You don't understand us, Alice, because you and Frank—"

"Yes, Frank, my best friend in the world!" Alice was clearly not in the mood to let Livvy talk, so impatient and angry was she with Livvy's argument. "Yes, Frank, who knows me better than I know myself! Frank, who tells me everything; who means it when he kisses me; who isn't afraid to point it out if I'm doing something stupid! What about me and Frank, Livvy?"

"You and Frank are different from me and Russell," she said. "You can't possibly use your relationship as a standard to judge mine."

"You two," I tried to say again as they glared at each other. "C'mon now, eat up, we have to get going, first period starts soon…"

Now, finally, my friends realized that I was still sitting there beside Alice, watching timidly as they raged on about the merits and downfalls of their boyfriends. Both were furious, but Livvy was better at controlling her rage, managing to look ice cool next to Alice's abundant fire.

"Fine," she said. "Let's finish breakfast and go to Charms. We don't have much time."

"Fine by me," said Alice, although she sounded considerably less composed in her forced dignity.

The rest of our breakfast was blanketed by silence, as neither girl had anything left to say to the other. I, being the innocent bystander with nothing to say, tried to bridge the gap – by the end, it seemed to have worked in a feeble sort of way (they were polite enough to each other), but it wasn't like they magically settled back into normalcy. However, I was grateful for what I got, choosing to reflect upon the argument in silence, on my own.

I could see both sides of the situation, if I'm honest with myself. I can see how Alice has no right to say what she said, having known Livvy's relationship so little; but I can also see where she draws her point from.

When I think on it, I really can't recall a time when Livvy and Russell weren't kissing, or cuddling, or commenting upon something physical – like Livvy's hair or how cute Russell's butt looked in those pants. They don't really have too much in the secrets-and-fears-and-what-makes-the-other-tick arena – and if Livvy's claim is correct, and Russell is going to be her forever, what does that mean for them and their relationship?

They're in a honeymoon period for now, being at school and distracted by work, so the affair has charm and ache and everything Livvy has never had in previous relationships. But what will happen if they're forced to get to know each other?

Will they surprise the other with who they really are? Will they be able to stay together regardless of what the other does? Or will they just fall apart, unable to respect that people are more than what various perceptions suggest?

I don't know. Right now, I can fully say that I don't know. But, luckily, this is a good time to be indecisive – Livvy and Alice are still not talking to one another and it's best if I don't take sides. Livvy gets so touchy about that.

Class is just about over for the time being. Everyone's packing up. I'd better go – Livvy and Alice need a mediator, or else I fear one of them will commit murder before lunch.

This is what these girls do to me. They are quite fortunate that I love them both dearly.

Later.

**1:00 PM**  
_Status_: Silently watching my friends argue in History of Magic

_Continuing from our conversation at lunch, Alice, I am going to tell you right now, you don't understand what you're talking about. You're not part of this dilemma. It's not up to you to tell me whether or not I should tell James about me and Russell.__ –O_

_Yes, well, also continuing from our conversation at lunch, __Olivia__, I'm telling you right now that what you're doing is both stupid and wrong. You need to tell James and really figure out your priorities with Russell. You need more communication if you want to survive as a couple. –A_

_You aren't with us when we're together. You don't know how we communicate.__ –O_

_Really? Well, then, tell me – what makes him happy? What makes him sad? What keeps him awake at night, worrying? What is his favorite hobby? What does he want to do when he leaves Hogwarts? –A_

_I'm not telling you that. It's his business – our business – and it's not for you to intrude on. I'm not taking an exam here, you know, and I've had quite enough of them.__ –O_

_If you can't answer these questions, after all this time you've spent together, then you are not a real couple. He is not going to be your forever. –A_

_I never said I don't know the answers. We've talked about them. He knows my answers to those questions as well. We know each other extremely well – he's met my insane parents, for goodness' sake. We love each other and I hate that you're trying to judge us.__ –O_

_It's for your own good, Livs. If you don't know what you're getting into, your relationship will fall apart and both of you are going to get seriously hurt. Don't put yourself through that. Figure this out and be in a healthy relationship benefiting you both. –A_

_I appreciate the concern, Alice, but if you think your negativity is doing any good, you're wrong. Me and Russell are just fine. You just feel that way because you and Frank can kiss whenever you want and aren't forced to set time aside to cuddle.__ –O_

_You don't have to do it that way. You're just too damn stubborn to see reason. –A_

_Yes, just another one of my many shortcomings. Thanks dearly for pointing it out – wouldn't have been able to go on without the knowledge.__ –O_

_Don't be bitter, Livvy. Just because I'm not telling you what you want to hear, doesn't mean I'm wrong. Think about it. –A_

_I'm not bitter because I'm hearing something unpleasant – I'm bitter because it's WRONG. You are meddling in matters you do not understand. I'm getting kind of tired of it. Can you drop the subject?__ –O_

_Sure. Fine. We can drop the subject. All I did was make a point – you were the one to start freaking out about the whole thing. –A_

_Fine. Another flaw to add to the list. I should take notes…__ -O_

_Oh, shove off, Livvy. You're going to be okay. –A_

_I know. No thanks to you.__ –O_

… _-A_

Note to self: Never let Alice and Livvy use this diary as a means of communication. Is detrimental to health of all those involved.

**11:30 PM**  
_Status_: Exhausted but curious

Well, the Valentine's Day/love exploration ordeal has been continuing on through the course of the day, and I'm so damn sick of it, I have decided to ignore the fact that my body is screaming for sleep so I can write it all down, purge it out of my system. I swear, I would go insane if I didn't have this diary to pour some of my thoughts into. My life is far too complicated for my own good.

But before I begin that long, involved, painful rant, I think I'll go into what happened during patrol today with James. That was rather interesting.

See, as much as I don't care about Valentine's Day, James does. He absolutely and completely does. But not in the way I expected.

He unloaded the views upon me today, when we were wandering about the sixth floor. We had just smuggled Sirius into the kitchens to get some supplements for Napoleon's dinner and we were just hanging around, as usual. But James seemed rather agitated, for some reason, and I decided to be a good person and ask him what was up.

"Hey," I said. "You look…annoyed. Is something the matter?"

"Do I?" he asked vaguely, looking even grumpier, somehow, his hand going straight for his hair.

"Yes, you do," I said. "Like a cockroach that's been stepped on."

"I look like a cockroach?" James was not pleased with my analogy. I sighed.

"Don't be an idiot – I've had enough of phrase-sensitive friends," I said, thinking of Livvy this afternoon. "Now tell me, what's going on?"

"Nothing," mumbled James.

I put my hands on my hips. "After spending all this time with me, worming out every single worry of mine you can get at, do you _really _think I'm about to let you off the hook that easy?"

James smirked. "Well…I guess not," he allowed.

"Exactly," I said. "So tell me. What's going on? Why do you look pissed?"

"It's nothing major," he said with a shrug, rumpling his hair and then sticking his hands in his pockets. "Just…some fourth year girl I don't even know comes up to me and asks me to her Valentine's Day boyfriend."

I was a little surprised, but somehow, I didn't feel like I should be. Maybe to me, he was only James Potter; but I shouldn't have been so ignorant as to forget that he was still _James Potter_. It's common knowledge that the lower school adores him. Not only is he quite good-looking in that scruffy sort of way, he's funny and popular and an athlete. These are recommendations that could get him into the Ministry of Magic if he wanted to, let alone a few offers for girlfriends.

Wondering if he was jesting, I asked, "Wait, so…you're annoyed because some girl wanted you to be her boyfriend?"

"Yes," said James, as though he wasn't sure why I was so confused. "Wouldn't you?"

Instantly, I thought of Jonathon, but I didn't tell James that.

"Well, I mean…no," I said honestly. "It's kind of an honor. Maybe an inconvenient one, but it's nice that someone cares."

"It wasn't so much the girl but the idea of what she was saying that really got to me," said James. "I mean, not to sound arrogant, but girls asking me out isn't exactly uncommon. But the way this girl said it, her 'Valentine's Day boyfriend,' like she wanted me to be her pet monkey on display…it really got to me."

"I can imagine," I said sympathetically, "but I do hope you let her down nicely?"

"I think I did," he said. "Like, I said I was already otherwise engaged, and she walked away fairly unscathed, but…I dunno. It bothered me. I really hate Valentine's Day."

"Why would you waste your time and energy hating Valentine's Day?" I asked him. "It's not something you should worry about. It's silly, I know, but if people care, they can go ahead and do so. It doesn't make a difference to me."

"It's a terrible holiday," proclaimed James. "It's an excuse for girls to act so…unlike themselves, going and throwing themselves at any guy they can reach, just so they're not alone on a day when everyone wants to show off what they have in front of all their friends. It's meaningless, and yet there are so many people who put energy into it, like it matters. It's ridiculous."

"Maybe, but I still don't see why you care," I said. "It's silly, and I wouldn't be caught dead participating, but you know, whatever floats your boat."

"I still hate it," James pouted.

"And you can – again, it doesn't matter to me," I said with a giggle, amused by this sullenness I was so unaccustomed to seeing from this strange, strange boy.

However, James was quiet a few moments, seeming to soak this in, or think, or do something involving somber contemplation. I let him have at it, walking and whistling quietly to myself, until James abruptly decided to speak.

"Hey, Lils, I've been meaning to ask you about something," he said rather gravely. "And it's kind of personal."

"Sure, go for it," I said, wondering what to expect. He could've been asking me about my sex life, with the way he was looking at me, but I was sure it wasn't going to be something major.

And it wasn't – because the next words to come out of his mouth were, "Are you going steady with that Jonathon kid?"

I blinked a couple of times. Was he kidding? No, no he wasn't. He was dead serious, in wait for my answer. I gave him a weird look.

"No…no, of course I'm not," I said. "Jonathon…_no_. Merlin, James, where on earth did you come up with that one?"

"It's been bothering me for a while," he admitted. "Well, not really a _while_…but ever since your birthday party. He acted very…protectively of you, and I was wondering if…I dunno, if his crush had gotten out-of-hand…because everyone knows he fancies you…and it's been going around that you two snogged that night…" His face was growing intriguingly pink as he spoke.

I, however, went pink for a different reason.

"That little toad!" I muttered. "Merlin…I'm going to kill him next prefect meeting, I swear…"

"Is it true?" asked James, aghast. "You really kissed him?"

"It…it wasn't anything like _that_," I said hastily at his expression of alarm. "I mean…yeah, he does fancy me, and he acted very rudely about that dance – which I'm dreadfully sorry about, by the way—"

"It's fine," murmured James.

"—but like…he was dancing with me, and he told me he wanted to be more than friends, and we were just sort of swaying there, and it all happened rather quickly," I continued, embarrassed as I recounted this extremely personal/girly tale to this not-so-personal/male friend of mine. "He just…leaned in, and we kissed. For only a few seconds. And then it was over. What have _you _heard about it?"

"I heard it from Mary Macdonald," said James, "and she heard it from Melanie Walters, who heard it from Stephanie Hill, who is one of Jonathon's closest friends."

"Yes, but what did they say?" I asked impatiently.

James went pink again. "Well…I dunno…apparently, Jonathon said that you were really into it, and you two snogged for at least a few minutes before you broke it off. Then he said you wanted to go to the next step and he had to turn you down, because he doesn't think of you that way."

"The little vermin!" I cried, outraged.

"But you have to realize, Stephanie Hill is destined for work on the Quibbler or something, with the way she exaggerates things," James reminded me. "Jonathon could've told her something reasonable and she could've twisted it."

"But clearly Jonathon did nothing to curb his insane friend's testimony!" I was beyond angry. "Merlin, I need to kill that boy. If that's what people are hearing about me…"

"Relax, relax, me and Sirius can calm the whole thing down," James assured me sweetly. "You know how we are. We can make sure everyone gets the right story by the end of the week, no harm done. I knew it couldn't be right, though. You're not really into Jonathon, are you?"

"No, of course I'm not," I said. "I mean, he's a nice enough guy and all…but he's not really my type."

"I figured," he said, almost too thoughtfully. "He's too…eager. You don't like eager."

"Really? Now I'm curious – what else do you think I dislike in guys, James?" I couldn't help but tease, my eyes twinkling.

"Well, I dunno…but not someone like him," said James definitively, slightly startled that I interrupted him. "I'm so glad you're not dating."

"Don't worry about it," I said. "I'm not really into the dating scene right now. Too much work and stress to worry about a boyfriend, you know?"

"Yeah…" he said vaguely, although he seemed somewhat annoyed again. "Yeah, I get what you mean. There's definitely a lot to worry about at the moment."

From there, we did change the subject; but I dunno, something about his expression stayed with me even as we ventured on to discuss the difficulty of our latest Charms essay. He didn't let anything on, and it's probably all in my head, but he seemed irritated all over again, like I'd done something as unspeakable as prove his disposability, like that fourth year.

I wanted to ask what was up, like I had the first time, but something inside of me told me not to say anything and I kept my mouth shut. The patrol finished up smoothly and we said good-bye in perfectly normal tones before parting ways.

But I do have to say…James's accusation about Valentine's Day bringing out the worst in people's love intentions wasn't completely off the mark.

I don't like Valentine's Day for the same reason. Too many weird conversations come up, regarding love and commitment and relationships, and things get fuzzy. It's like _asking_ to delve into the often over-wrought complications that come with bonds between people – and that's not always a good thing. Just look at Livvy and James. They have had their fair share of speculation about things that wouldn't come up unless some stupid holiday forced other people to think specifically about them.

It's actually kind of insane.

But, anyway, before I get into that whole deal, I do have to say that my eyes are aching to the point where I can't ignore them anymore. Valentine's Day is starting to frustrate me – as is the whole world, actually – and I think it's time for bed. I need to sleep. I'm one of those people who fully believe that things will look better in the morning, and I kind of need that, with how unsettled I feel today.

I mean, seriously: in the past few hours, I discovered that my best friend has a potentially shallow/purely physical relationship with the boyfriend she claims to love, and my best guy friend is freaking out because a little girl wanted him to be her temporary valentine.

It has not been my finest day.

Let's hope tomorrow goes a tiny bit better.

'Night, then…

--

A/N: Next chapter = The Valentine's Day Chronicles. Very similar to the Halloween Chronicles, if you guys remember those. Hope you like that, and I'll see you next chapter! Review away!


	39. The Valentine's Day Chronicles

A/N: Again, these are just like the Halloween Chronicles, since those went over really well with you guys – hopefully you will enjoy this one too, since I decided to add more dialogue this time around. It's a great way of letting you guys know what else is going on in the castle – plus, I get to show you the popular view of the LJ action, which we've only gotten one account of thus far. Exciting, exciting.

Another filler, I know, but it's necessary. You guys can understand that, right?

Enjoy, then, and the next chapter will be the actual day itself – where there are things going on, definitely.

Cheers!

--

_I would like to take this moment to interrupt my regularly-scheduled diary ranting in order to bring you…_

**THE VALENTINE'S DAY CHRONICLES**

…_because this is all anybody cares about at Hogwarts right now, in light of our upcoming Valentine's Day._

--

Thanks to the rampaging hormones so prevalent in our school – I swear, it has to be just Hogwarts, I refuse to believe teenagers are really this horny – I've decided to reflect the public mood in this diary, since it's all anyone cares about these days.

Like the last time I did this – around Halloween – most of my information will be second-hand from Alice. She's the only one who always _has _to share what her other acquaintances informed her of – and of course me and Livvy are her only willing audience.

So…without further ado…here we go. The Valentine's Day Chronicles. Hooray.

February 6

Whispers are going around that Sean has decided to ask Adrianna out on Valentine's Day, but Robert doesn't know about it. Apparently, Sean confronted Adrianna about the crush everyone knows about a couple of weeks ago, and she was mighty uncomfortable about the whole thing. But according to Alice, who heard it from Mary, she couldn't "fight the feeling" and she will probably accept, if Sean gets to the asking stage. Whether he will stay alive long enough to attend the date once Robert finds out remains to be seen.

Meanwhile, Sirius has decided he'd like a sweetheart this year. He put up a sign on the Gryffindor notice-board, informing us of his decision. I don't know what he wanted to get himself into, but I hear there's a mass of girls attempting to get his attention. I think that's hilarious. Sirius is always good at cooking up drama when no one really wants any more.

Livvy and Russell have saved the date for Puddifoot's. Livvy's rationale is, there will be so many couples over there, no one will pay them any attention. Alice was dying to say something, I could tell, when the news came out, but she didn't and Livvy was glad. She can be so fragile sometimes.

February 7

Emma Bell and George Westrom – the surprise, social-class-transcending couple of Halloween fame – are still going strong. Alice reported that a reliable source told her they'd already had sex and everything. They're going out to Puddifoot's on Saturday as well.

Vickie Frasier, a Gryffindor sixth year, currently seems to be the current favorite for Sirius's Valentine's Day sweetheart. Sirius was spotted in the library with her during his lunch hour. He appeared quite keen on her, playing with her hair and smelling her neck. Apparently, she giggled a lot and can now be seen sporting a banana-split smile so huge I wonder if her cheek muscles hurt. Oh, to be Sirius…

Peter, whose Halloween relationship didn't really work out, has decided to ask "Ginger" Maverish to be his date. Her real name is Lauren, but she's one of the few red-heads in our school – like me – and everyone calls her Ginger. She's a lot more romantically-sociable than I am – my reputation is generally popular/well-liked but a workaholic – so Peter isn't the only one eyeing her ginger locks. We'll see how this goes.

Meanwhile, Sean asked out Adrianna this afternoon, during Potions! He had flowers and everything. It was utterly romantic. Adrianna burst into tears and said yes. No word yet on Robert and his emotional blow, though.

February 8

I heard my own gossip today – and it's kind of shocking. It happened during Herbology today. I was fighting with a Venemous Tentacula, because it had stolen my bracelet (the one Jonathon gave me, actually) and was refusing to give it back.

While I was doing this, though, Mary Macdonald approached me and conversationally asked me, "So, what's going on between you and James Potter?"

I shushed her for a moment and retrieved my bracelet, swearing copiously at that stupid plant. That's one of the nice things about Madam Sprout – she doesn't care if we use bad language, mostly because she tends to let a few words slip when she's annoyed as well. When I was done cursing that thing to the depths of hell, I asked Mary to repeat what she wanted.

"What's going on between you and James Potter?" she wanted to know. "I've been hearing an awful lot about you two lately. I even overhead a couple of girls talking about it in the loo this morning."

I nearly dropped my newly-rescued bracelet back to the floor where the Venemous Tentacula could grab it. I was that shocked.

"Wait, what have you been hearing?" I demanded.

Mary shifted uncomfortably. "Well…I dunno…just little things," she said in that way of hers that put me on suspicion at once. "Like that he fancies you, is going to ask you to be his Valentine's Day date, wants to snog the lights of you but can't…and that you fancy him too, and you flirt outrageously with him, particularly during prefect's meetings…"

"Who is misinforming the public so horribly?" I cried, suddenly wanting nothing more than to run upstairs to my room and cry. "I mean, I can't have people believing lies like these…all the cover-ups James and Sirius are doing for me can't set them straight forever…"

"Well, I heard it all from the girls in the loo, as well as Marianne Frederick," reported Mary.

"How would Marianne Frederick know any of the sort – I don't even talk to her," I said, puzzled. "Since when has my life become a sitcom everyone watches but me?"

Mary laughed. "Well, see, Marianne heard it from Tiffany Castle, who heard it from Eleanor Trainer, who got it from Isla Brink, who overheard Trey Miller telling Ryan Gardener. Trey is a prefect – which I'm sure you already know."

I blinked a couple of times, trying to take this in.

"Wow," I said. "That's really twisted."

"This is what happens when you're a hot topic," said Mary, patting my shoulder. "So what _is _going on between you two? I'm dying to know the _real _story."

"There _is _no real story," I said with a definite coolness to my tone. "We are good friends who incidentally spend a lot of time together. There's nothing going on."

"I don't know…" said Mary, rubbing her chin in a Sherlock Holmes kind of way. "I was talking to Mavis Robbins – the Ravenclaw prefect – and she told me that you guys flirt all the time. He's always teasing you and you always let him."

I made a mental note to give Mavis a hard time next time I saw her. But to Mary, I said, "We're _friends_. That does mean we mess around a little. People only ever see what they want to see in terms of relationships – I mean, seriously, if we weren't _Lily and James_, no one would say anything of the sort."

"Well, as it is, you are the Lily half of _Lily and James_, so you're going to have to get used to this," said Mary, nodding sympathetically. "You two are meant to be. You always have been. We all think it's a matter of time until you get together for real. Don't tell me you don't smell the current changing."

"It's not," I said, insulted. "Everything's fine. James is my friend, nothing more and nothing less."

"If you say so…"

I could tell Mary didn't believe me, but I refused to pursue the conversation any further, choosing to return back to my table with Alice and Livvy and refusing to tell them why I was looking so upset.

If there was any other news going on today, then I don't know what it is and guess what? I no longer care. Gossip is so overrated.

February 9

I was going to bring up our status as the new It Couple to James the other night, but I decided not to bother with it and now I'm annoyed that I didn't. This morning, I visited the loo and when I was in there – lo and behold – I found people gossiping about me and James, as Mary had said. Once they saw me enter, they bombarded me with ridiculous questions, like how it felt to kiss James Potter, and how hot is he without his shirt on, and have I gotten into his pants yet? I wanted to die. I threatened them all within an inch of their lives – a very un-Head-Girl-like thing to do, but I was beyond the point of caring – and they unwillingly shut up, but _Merlin_…

Otherwise…

There was quite an epic fight today, in the corridors just after lunch. Robert had just found out his brother was keeping it quiet that he was going with Adrianna to Puddifoot's on Valentine's Day. Adrianna was a dolt who didn't realize Robert hadn't a clue and referenced it in passing. Robert freaked out and, abandoning his wand, got into a fist-fight with Sean in the middle of a corridor. Then they found their wands and it got pretty ugly. Flitwick almost lost an eye separating the two and the word is that Dumbledore has to have a special talking-to with them. Adrianna is beside herself with horror. I would really hate to be Adrianna.

Also, Sirius has found a date for Valentine's Day. Her name is Gabrielle. She is also known as Frenchie – and not completely because she's French on her mother's side, if you get my drift. I can see why Sirius would go for her. There is many a disappointed girl at Hogwarts now – I've heard enough lamentations to last me the rest of my life, I'm sure.

Why is this holiday suddenly such a big deal? Don't we have enough to worry about already? There I was, saying I didn't care, and now I find that James was right, it's a menace to our psychology. Oh, the human condition…

February 10

I decided to ask James last night, about the whole "people thinking we're in love" rumor. I was sure he'd heard it – he hears much more than I do, because he cares enough.

Our conversation was as follows.

ME: So…have you heard?

JAMES: Heard what?

ME: You know…about what people are saying?

JAMES: About what?

ME: About…you and me?

JAMES: A little. I know they think I'm still in love with you. What else have they been saying?

ME: Erm…_things_.

JAMES: Great. Thanks for being so descriptive. It would've been so annoying if you hadn't properly explained yourself.

ME: (snicker) You're a dolt. But yeah…they're saying all sorts of crap about us. Mary was telling me in Herbology.

JAMES: Wanna tell me some of that crap? Now I'm curious. What's more interesting than me supposedly nursing my old crush on you?

ME: It's not competing news – more supplemental. It's like…okay, this is awkward, so do you promise not to laugh? This stuff is not of my own creation.

JAMES: Definitely. Go for it.

ME: Well…Mary said that people are under the impression that you…that you still like me like that, and you want to…snog me…and you can't…and that I…I'm also in love with you, because I…flirt with you – I mean, that's what they say, because I'm totally not – and…yeah. That's what they're saying.

JAMES: (laughs)

ME: You said you wouldn't laugh!

JAMES: I'm sorry, but it's really funny!

ME: I'm never telling you anything ever again.

JAMES: You can't tell me you didn't laugh when you first heard that.

ME: …I didn't. I was mortified. It's all lies.

JAMES: …Right. Of course they are. So why are you worried?

ME: False impressions always worry me.

JAMES: That's silly.

ME: …

I swear, the rumor mill is going to be the death of me – and maybe James, too. I mean, I could swear, as he dismissed these things as "silly" lies, I could see something murky going on behind those hazel eyes of his – like his cogs were turning and he was thinking fast, too fast for the conversation. I think he was secretly worried about it too, since it's such a huge lie.

I mean, honestly. Is it so impossible for a boy and girl to remain friends? Alice and Frank are a terrible example because they're made for each other. What about other girls and boys? They can't all be made for each other. What's wrong with being friends? I like being friends.

Sweet Merlin, I have come to the conclusion that I hate Valentine's Day. Really, really hate it.

February 11

Remus now has a date for Valentine's Day. Katie Grey, a shy sixth year, asked him out on a whim over pudding at lunch today, and he said yes. James told me later in private that Remus hadn't even intended to go to the village that day – but because he felt bad for Katie, who was rumored to have a crush on him for a long time, he appeased her. Remus is just so sweet that way.

Peter asked Ginger to be his date. She agreed. Peter now has a date as well. Almost all the Marauders do by this point – except James, which is weird, because you'd expect him to get one first. But, well…

Sirius and Gabrielle seem to be heating up a bit. They were caught snogging outside the Charms classroom earlier today. Sirius appeared pleased – maybe Gabrielle lives up to her pet name after all.

The Sean-Adrianna-Robert drama has been a little calmer lately. After their big fight, Sean and Robert did some talking and Robert is letting his brother get the girl. Adrianna always liked him better anyway. Things are finally calm. Adrianna is thrilled – she hates confrontation, which has always confused me, since she inspires so much of it.

Oh, and Emma Bell and George Westrom were caught having sex in the girl's bathroom during lunch. How embarrassing!

February 13

Everything's pretty much ready to go, as this Thursday drags on in impatient anticipation for the next day. No more news, really. I mean, besides the fact that Sirius and Gabrielle were caught three more times, snogging it out by the Charms classroom, which seems to be a favorite.

Everybody is really excited. Livvy is over-the-moon that she gets to be with Russell "properly" while Alice can't wait to spend her first proper Valentine's Day with Frank.

But me? I'm just worried about how I'm going to finish these damn Transfiguration questions with everybody twittering around and screaming as they currently are. That's how socially-boring I've become this year.

I'd best go to my dormitory to finish this. Tomorrow will be a long, long, long day. And it's not even the Saturday village trip yet.

Help?

-Fin-

_And now we return to our regularly-scheduled diary ranting, as transcribed by yours truly…_

--

A/N: I didn't actually intend to write those conversations out – the ones with Mary and James – but I figured, hey, it worked better that way. So you got some considerable LJ, and hopefully some hints that the tide was, and still is, changing quite a lot. I'm not quite sure how the next chapter is going to feel, as of now, so we'll see how it goes when the time comes.

Cheers, guys. And please review and let me know what you thought!


	40. I Watch Valentine's Day Unfurl

A/N: You know, believe it or not, some of the weird stuff in this story is based on stuff that happens in my real life. That's the thing about reality – it's so…I dunno, surreal sometimes. I have too many moments in my day that seem to come out of bad 80's movies and I'm sure no one would believe me if I shared them, but they happened. It's so odd.

But yeah. Here's Valentine's Day. It's kind of taking place in two parts – this chapter is the actual day, which is a Friday, and then the dating stuff will come on Saturday, which is the next day and shall be discussed next chapter. It took some tinkering, and playing around with (way more than I'd like, and amidst my hellish life as a junior) but I think I'm relatively happy with the final product. Hopefully, so will you.

Here we go, then.

--

February 14

**Morning Check:**

Yes, today, I actually did wake up on time. I decided to bunk out in Alice and Livvy's dorm today, just for a change of scenery, and this morning, my impulsiveness revealed itself to be a terrible idea: I was rudely awoken to the sound of twittering girls about an hour before I even attempt to think vaguely about waking up. I tried to ignore it, but I mean, screeching girls are pretty grating on the ears – it's difficult to tune out.

So…I did get up. But I also vowed never to sleep in Alice and Livvy's dorm ever, ever again. Getting up early is not worth feeling as awful as I do right now. Particularly on a day like…this.

Valentine's Day. Oh Merlin. I'm terrified and I have every right to be.

**9:10 AM**  
_Status_: Still sleepy

Well, the Valentine's Day fiasco has now officially kicked itself off, as of this morning. From the constant buzzing going around my classroom as Flitwick tries valiantly to capture our attention, I have a feeling no one's going to learn much today.

Alice, on my right side, is wearing bright pink in honor of the occasion. Livvy is wearing a more sedate pink. I didn't go with the trend, because pink tends to clash with my hair unless it's _just _the right shade and I wasn't in the mood to go pink-hunting. I'm wearing blue. Alice complained that it was depressing, but I didn't particularly care. Turquoise – speaking from a fashion angle – is a better color for me.

Meanwhile, my classmates are mostly wearing varying shades of pink and red. Hogwarts gets really into these types of things. Girls have hearts and flowers in their hair, while guys wear a particularly smug smirk as their special accessory. Already, I can see the notes passing from hand to hand as though on Cupid's highway, the words making and breaking our fragile adolescent relationships right here and now, and I wonder how many hearts will remain whole by the end of the day.

This is dangerous. I really think it is. When I was in third year, James gave me seven flowers every period (because seven is a magically powerful number) and by the end of the day, I was lugging about an enormous bouquet that people kept giggling at. Boys shouldn't be allowed to affect girl's days the way they do. It's just not fair.

They can seriously ruin someone like this. James did it for me, back when we were both young and stupid, and I hate having to watch the habit repeat itself.

Why was I ever apathetic to the evils of Valentine's Day? I don't think the world will ever know.

**1:05 PM**  
_Status_: Frustrated

Now I'm safely in History of Magic, so I am finally able to pen my musings all throughout this morning. I can't even say how happy I am that I have a source other than Alice and Livvy to confide all this into. Somehow, I feel like less of a bad person if I complain here than if I complain with actual people. I dunno what it is – but it's a good feeling, being able to sit here and talk myself through my own thought processes.

So…that being said…_oh Merlin, Valentine's Day is such a horrible, terrible thing for a teenager to go through_.

I've never really thought about it in previous years. I truly haven't. It was just another day, usually on a weekday, where people had their usual make-ups and break-ups and I ignored it all in favor of my friends and my boyfriends of the moment, spending the evenings together but not making a big deal out of the almighty Valentine's Day.

But now…I don't see how I could have done that.

When I think about it, there are _so many_ _couples _in this castle. So many boys and girls holding hands and kissing each other and whispering secrets kept only for them. So many boys and girls taking chances on each other and finding only temporary satisfaction. So many boys and girls turning an ordinary day into a pinnacle for something that barely touches their realm of understanding.

Relationships are scary. I've been in several and every single time, it's a rush – you start off exciting enough, with this whole other person who cares about you, and every baby step you take, going on a date or letting him hold your hand for the first time, feels like you're tottering on a tightrope. Everything is new and exhilarating and you can't be sure if what you're doing is right, but you do it anyway, because it still makes you feel good.

And then you progress farther forward, to the point where you kiss for the first time, making this mutual pact that remains only between you – that you both want to know how it goes, how it feels, and you hold him tightly and plunge into the depths of the unknown. It's terrifying, but you want it, you do, and you go through with it anyway, because you feel like you have to _try _before you back out.

I see people kiss and even talk about having sex like it's not a big deal. But it is a big deal. Being physical is the easy part – following it up with the same emotional intimacy is the challenge. When you have sex, particularly, you are so vulnerable. You reveal yourself for everything you are, and the other person, they give you something and take something away.

It's the biggest gamble you take on someone, and it can change everything, and it's beyond me how this promise of the highest order can become the trivial thing it has become in recent times.

The first time I had sex, I was fifteen. I had a summer boyfriend named Eric. I met him very soon after the summer holidays preceding sixth year began and I broke up with just before going back to school. He was a Muggle and I never told him who I really was. But, in the middle of the sticky July heat, we were hanging about in his sun-room and he kissed me and he just felt…right.

We were immature, both physically and emotionally, and our sweet teenage kisses turned into an innocent, but earnest, desire to play an adult game. So he carefully peeled me out of my yellow sundress and I fumbled with his shirt buttons and we tried out this mysterious, elusive dance, right there on the cool white tiles beneath us.

As far as First Times go, I reckon it wasn't too bad, but it was a strange feeling, giving myself to him that way. We were both shy and awkward, far too young to be doing what we were doing, and we lay there for about an hour together, somewhere in that weird haze between sleep and consciousness, between grasping what we'd done and what it meant. He played absently with my hair and I rubbed circles into his hip with my thumb and the minutes dragged on, with us unsure of what to do.

After that afternoon, I could feel the changes in Eric and myself, the sex seeming to permeate through every subsequent thing we said or did. We tried to be normal, talk about films and ice cream and home, but then his hand would touch mine and he wouldn't look at me, despite keeping his hand there for several minutes before quietly withdrawing it. And sometimes, I'd catch his eyes lingering a little too long on my breasts and I wondered if that was okay, since he'd already encountered them bare.

When we broke up, it was evening and he met me in the park, delivering his verdict between soft, amiable kisses by a light-post. It was like he wanted me, but he knew we were temporary, that we weren't going to last. His hands rested in the valley of my waist as he said his final good-bye and I could tell he was getting one last feel of that curve, the one that always seems to define a woman.

That was when I knew I wasn't upset that we were over. In fact, I was kind of relieved. He was the perfect definition of summer love, unresolved and temporary but beautiful for the raw purity of it all, and it made sense for us to wash our hands of each other. It's more common than you think. A lot of people – myself included – weren't sure how to handle their first mistakes, and often resolve them later, away from the person in question.

So, with my first experiences in mind, I find it impossible to believe sex is just…I dunno, something to do when you're bored. It's so private, completely on a different wavelength, and it does change everything. It's complicated. I don't care who says what about it, but I know this to be true and I'm sensitive to people saying it doesn't matter, because it does. It really, really does. And then I find myself wondering how many – or how few – people in this castle think the same way that I do.

I saw this one couple on my way here, to History, dawdling near the entrance to the corridor. They must've been in first year, and they were holding hands, and kissing. They were only eleven years old, but I could see them both eagerly exploring the other, hastily trying to perfect something that is already perfect in itself. It made me kind of sick – because I mean, what the hell do they know about love? They're far too young. Sorry, but it's true.

This is what Valentine's Day does to people. It makes them think that being in a relationship makes you Somebody, so everyone does their best to get themselves into one, when they should be waiting for the right person.

Valentine's Day is just another day. But what you do, or don't do, could affect you for the rest of your life. Why don't people remember that?

**2:20 PM**  
_Status_: Bored and talking to Alice

_So, did you hear? –A_

Hear what? –L

_You know what! –A_

Obviously not. –L

_Oh, Lily, you oblivious thing. Fine. If you're so out of the loop, I'll just tell you. –A_

Thank you, O Gracious Alice. I am forever in your debt. –L

_You're damn right you are. Anyway, here's the deal – apparently, the rumor going around is that Sean thinks he's going to be able to get Adrianna in bed tonight! Everyone knows about it but her! Can you believe it?! –A_

Blimey, no I can't! How terrible! Do we know where the rumor came from? –L

_Well, Mary – you know, Mary Macdonald – went to go talk to him about it, and he admitted to starting the rumor himself, totally direct and everything. Everyone knows he wants to get in bed with her, but he's convinced it'll happen tonight! –A_

Poor Adrianna! Has anyone told her yet?? –L

_No, but one of her best friends is going to break it to her gently after class. Hopefully there won't be another fight, like when Sean and Robert dueled in the corridor. –A_

Hopefully not. Oh my goodness. Have you told Livvy yet? –L

_You kidding? Livvy heard this one before me. That's how widespread it is. –A_

Oh. Well… –L

_You're so behind. –A_

I've had other things to worry about today! –L

_Like what? –A_

Like life. And work. And paying attention. And freaking out about NEWTS. You know the stuff? –L

_Darling, you need a life. –A_

I know. And I have one. But I'll choose to live it properly when these exams are over. I have a lot of time to do everything else. –L

_Whatever. –A_

Love you too, Alice. –L

_Always. –A_

**8:00 PM**  
_Status_: Shocked

Oh…my…word.

Okay, wow.

So I've got patrol in a bit, and I really ought to be finishing up the last of my Charms homework, but this is important and I need to write about it before patrol is over because, well…it'll make sense once I've explained it.

See, it's all because we had a little…mishap occur this afternoon.

It was just after classes ended for the afternoon. Russell wanted to go to the library with Livvy and the two of them left to do that, while Alice and I went to the common room to relax a little before starting homework. A very normal routine, right? Well, today, not so much.

Very soon after Livvy left, she returned up to the common room, distraught and looking like she'd been crying. Russell wasn't with her. She ran straight towards us, perplexing us with her erratic breathing and mussed hair and bruised-looking lips. She sat down beside Alice and tried impatiently to catch her breath. Alice and I exchanged looks and let her calm down, because our questions would only be answered once she could breathe properly.

It took a minute, but Livvy finally regained control over her voice box and, like a frightened rabbit, gave us the million-Galleon phrase:

"_James found me and Russell snogging in the library_."

I blinked a couple of times, registering this. Livvy repeated herself:

"_James found me and Russell snogging in the library_."

And then it clicked, for both me and Alice. At once, we swallowed our disbelief and demanded to know _exactly _how it happened – exactly what the situation is, how bad it is, what we can do about it. Livvy's eyes welled up with tears, but we squeezed her hands and told her to confide in us.

"Merlin…we were so stupid," she lamented piteously, self-disgust evident in her tone, coaxing her hand out of Alice's and wiping away some of her tears. "So, so stupid. When we started going out, I swore we wouldn't be one of those annoying, overt couples who cuddle for all the world to see, but we were, we were, it was horrible…"

"So you were in the library," I prompted, determined to be the calm one as Alice shot me a panicked look. "Okay. Fine. What were you doing? Cuddling, kissing? Nuzzling?"

"Kissing," said Livvy, subtly avoiding Alice's eyes as she said this. "It's…I dunno, it's Valentine's Day, so we were indulging a little, and then…then James walks by, probably to see Sirius, who was sitting on the other side of the library…and he sees us and he made a weird sort of inhaling sound, which made us turn around and see him there, confused.

"We obviously blushed and got tongue-tied and didn't know what to say, so he did the talking. He asked us what we were doing, how long we'd been together, things like that, and we…I…answered him honestly. Russell insists it was a stupid thing to do, but he already knew the big secret – it wouldn't make sense to piss him off further by lying more. So…he kind of glared at us, and Russell pointed out that he wouldn't have known if he hadn't come by, and that kind of made him angry. He said he wants to talk to us together around the beginning of dinner and Merlin, I'm scared out of my _mind_. What am I supposed to do?"

"Well, first of all," I said, trying to take charge and calm Livvy's wrist, which was actually shaking in my hands, "we need to stop freaking out and think clearly. Can you do that? Stop freaking out, Livvy. Stop it. Now."

Livvy was distressed, but not to the point where her reasoning was completely out the window. She took in big gulps of air, really giving an honest effort to calm herself, but it still took her a minute to get her breathing close to normal, so that she could at least talk properly.

"I just…the worst possible thing happened on what is supposed to be the most romantic day of the year," said Livvy with a troubled sigh. "He looked so _upset_…I mean, I felt awful, but I could imagine not being with Russell at the same time. I'm back to my old dilemma now."

"I hate to say I told you so, but you should've talked to James before now, like I kept saying," I said. "You know as well as I do that he values honesty almost as much as he values his friends."

"We'll see how it goes," said Livvy with a sniffle, neatly avoiding the issue at hand. "I mean…I'm so nervous. I don't even know what to do."

"Tell the truth this time, as Lily suggested," chimed in Alice. "It's your best bet. And make sure you get in a word with Russell beforehand – he ought to know your side of the story before you make your case."

"Russell knows my side of the story," said Livvy dismissively. "He and I were on the same page. We just need to get James to come to that page too – and right now, he's in a completely different book."

"Just be careful, my love," I said to Livvy, worried about her as ever. "I don't want you do something stupid and mess everything up. You've worked really hard this year at Quidditch, school, and Russell – I wouldn't want that to fall on top of you, not now."

Livvy's expression was moody, but she said, "Yeah. You're right. I'll hold my tongue, I swear."

"That's probably your best bet," agreed Alice.

We continued in this vein for a little while longer, with Livvy becoming progressively more normal the more we talked solutions. She was visibly nervous, of course, but she was better at controlling it and she acted like she had a chance to intelligently make her bid for Russell. She was even kind of hopeful, by the time we left the common room a little early for dinner.

However, her bubble popped just a little bit while we were on our way down to the Great Hall. We were broaching the subject to something else, at long last, when James himself came down the corridor, a decidedly irritable air about him. Livvy stopped almost dead, but he was not looking at Livvy. He was looking at me.

I slowed down, unsure if he wanted to speak to me, and he came straight towards me, ignoring my friends.

"Hey, I might be a little late to patrol tonight – is that okay?" he asked somewhat gruffly.

I swallowed and glanced at Livvy. She was frightened, but also pleading, and I melted at the sight of her brown eyes, beseeching as they were. Exhaling slightly, I looked into James's moody hazel eyes and said, "Can I have a word with you? Just, quickly? Please?"

He looked at me like he didn't want to, but his answer came out naturally enough. "All right," he said.

I grabbed his wrist and dragged him off to the side of the corridor. Alice and Livvy escaped to the Great Hall, Alice taking over as Livvy's backbone, and I tried to gather my thoughts, figure out how to say what I felt. James is taller than me, and when he's in such a foul mood, he's intimidating, and he was like that today, towering over me and making me uncomfortable. But I forced myself to confront him anyway, for Livvy's sake.

"Look, James," I began. "About Livvy and Russell…"

"Yeah," he cut me off. "I'm going to be talking to them about that whole deal. I'm sure Olivia has already informed you of it."

Although the moment wasn't quite right for it, I still registered how weird it was to hear Livvy referred to as Olivia from James's mouth. No one ever really calls her Olivia (well, except Mrs. Harris when she's really pissed) – she's just Livvy. James has always used her first name, even when they dated, but my word, it made me want to giggle – which would've been bizarre in the context of our conversation.

"Yeah…she told me," I ended up saying instead. "And…I mean, Livvy is in love with Russell, honestly and truly, and she's been struggling with the ethics of going out with him while not telling you. I'm not saying what she did was right, but at the same time, you can't come down too hard on her. Her game has stayed consistent and you shouldn't have to punish her extensively. You know?"

"She lied to me," said James flatly. "So did Russell."

"They did," I said, "but…I dunno, they care about each other and it's not up to you to dictate their personal relationships. Please remember that when you talk to them later? For my sake, if no one else's? Because I'm the one who has to pick up the pieces once you're done making your mess."

The combination of logic and a personal appeal to guilt did the trick. James was silent for a few moments, taking in my words quite seriously. Some of the murk started to clear from his hazel eyes, his features softening down to a level closer to normal and I knew his humanity was winning the battle going on in his head. Phew.

After about thirty seconds – I counted – he nodded and said, "Okay. Okay, I'll try that."

"Thank you," I said sincerely. "It would mean a lot to Livvy and Russell. And to me."

"I know," he said, his tone kinder. "But I was just hurt, you know? They'd been dating for months when I expressly told them I didn't really want inter-team relationships. They tend to mess up our dynamics as players on the pitch and I didn't want to deal with that. I told them pretty much Day One."

"Can _you_ help who you fall in love with?" I asked. "Because no one I know can."

This softened his features all the way down, to the point where he looked almost childlike, his eyes suddenly cleared up completely.

"No, I don't suppose you can," he said, his tone measured and careful. "You're right. You always are. Merlin…what would I do without you, Lils?"

"Dunno," I said, grinning mischievously. "Luckily, you're not about to find out any time soon. But anyway, I just wanted to talk to you about that. And it _is _still Valentine's Day…the day of love and everything else. Your favorite day of the whole year. Right?"

James snickered. "Yeah. You know me and Valentine's Day go together like…like peanut butter and jam, right?"

"Definitely," I said with a wrinkle of my nose. "Now come give me a hug before I go into the Hall and stuff my face."

"You can always have a hug," he said, beaming, extending his arms outwards to bring me in. "Hugs are welcome here."

I wrapped my arms around James's neck and he snuggled me hard and close, a real and proper hug. Then he let me go, his face a million times happier than it was when he stormed towards me a few minutes previous; and despite Livvy, I felt sunnier too.

"So…I'll see you later tonight, for patrol?" he asked me.

"Yeah, you will," I said. "Now if you'll excuse me…"

"Oh, yes, by all means, go eat yourself sick," said James with a chuckle. "I've got to take care of something upstairs before I come down to speak to Livvy and eat as well."

"Okay," I said. "Good luck with that."

He saluted me and walked off, his steps noticeably more relaxed than they were earlier. It filled me with a warm, internal pleasure, to know that I had caused that favorable change in him. It felt like I'd done something right – which, I mean, I'm sure I must do sometimes, but it never dawns on me as sweetly as it does when I see him light up in that way of his. It's so weird…but a good sort of weird.

I wandered into dinner with a smile on my face, quite pleased all of a sudden, and I sat down at the Gryffindor table, beside Alice and across from Livvy. But, the moment I did so, the smile wore off a little to adapt to the intensity in Livvy's voice as she asked, "So what happened over there with James?"

"I requested that he take it easy on you and Russell," I reported. "He said he'll try. He wants to take care of something quickly and then he'll come back down for you and Russell."

Livvy did not look completely comforted, but we were interrupted again by Russell, who was looking pretty much as nervous as his girlfriend.

"Hey, has he come down yet?" he asked us.

"No," said Alice. "Calm down, Russ. Here, have some pumpkin juice." She poured him a glass from the pitcher and handed it to him.

Russell, polite as he was, did take the glass and took a few baby sips from it. He didn't seem to have much of an appetite. He sat down beside Livvy and I had never seen such a greater distance between them, physically and emotionally. They've always liked to touch, but his leg was several centimeters away from Livvy's. They picked at their food, not speaking or looking at each other, and Alice and I were at a loss of what to say. Several minutes passed in silence. So much for a joyous Valentine's Day celebration, I couldn't help but think gloomily.

Eventually, James returned downstairs to the Great Hall. He had definitely retained some of the sunshine he'd had when I talked to him. He caught Livvy's eye and gestured for the two of them to come outside with him. Alice and I whispered them wishes of good luck as they went out together.

As they walked, I noticed Russell try to hold Livvy's hand, to give him strength and show him she was there, but her fingers were clenched into fists out of her own brand of fear. His fingers skimmed her skin, but in all her tension, I don't think she noticed them. Russell didn't push the matter, taking his hand back and gliding beside her without a word.

And then they were gone.

Alice and I, in their absence, decided to lighten the mood from Livvy's dilemma and make things fun again. She told me a little bit about Frank and the goofy things he kept trying to do for Valentine's Day today, trying to change the subject, but it didn't work and we kept arriving back at Livvy.

So, instead of worrying, we made the list of possible punishments James might inflict upon Livvy and Russell.

Methods of Torture  
By: Lily and Alice

1. Shout himself hoarse about the value of honesty before assigning an essay on the subject, two rolls of parchment, due in three days.

2. Make the two of them bathe in an ice bath, to teach them how "cold" he can really be. Ha, ha, get it? _Cold_? (This one was all Alice.)

3. Force them to do his Quidditch laundry – by hand – for the rest of the year.

4. Get them to baby-sit a food-and-sleep-deprived Napoleon.

5. Bring them as representatives to the prefect meeting, where they must deal with Annie Potent and the evils of her speeches, as well as the other bored prefects.

6. Steal Sirius's toy arsenal and give them a day from hell. Employ Sirius if necessary.

James had many options available to him, I knew, and I was nervous quite nervous about which of them he would utilize. I worried, but Alice assured me that whatever he was going to do, he was going to tone it down, because I'd appealed to him so nicely. She predicted he was still head-over-heels in love with me and I ought to get _my _head out of my arse. I told her she was wrong and the usual argument ensued.

We weren't really as into it this time – it was like going through the motions – but it was a release, something to talk about other than Livvy. We were both terribly worried about her. She's under a lot of stress, like we are, and I wasn't sure if she would break or not. I didn't want her to.

A good twenty minutes later, when Alice and I were long done with dinner, Livvy arrived into the Great Hall, beaming. Clearly, things had gone well. Alice and I instantly stood up, anxious and damn curious, ready for all the gossip.

The moment she came within earshot, Alice and I demanded simultaneously, "So what happened?"

"What did he say? Was he nice about it?" I asked.

"How are you? How is Russell?" Alice wanted to know.

Livvy could barely contain herself with glee.

"Well…we're pretty much off the hook!" she squealed.

"Really?" I was utterly flabbergasted by this. "So what happened? What did you guys say?"

"Do tell!" Alice said, breathless, her eyes round as coins.

Well, Livvy did tell us, and she told us eagerly. The way she told it, James apparently grilled them for an uncomfortable few minutes, about their relationship and the way it was and had been going. Then, once he was through, he gave them the talk about trust and the team and the game and everything – but then he said he hadn't noticed fault in their game, so keep that up, otherwise he will be forced to take action. And they have to run three extra laps around the pitch every night. But otherwise, they're in the clear.

"It's really all thanks to you, Lils, I'm sure of it," said Livvy happily, taking a hearty bite of potatoes from the dish beside her. "He admitted he wanted to do much worse…but he decided not to. The only thing that changed between before and now was you. Hence…he must still care deeply about what you think and something you said to him changed his mind. So thank you. You saved my life."

I rolled my eyes at this and she dismissed me and we talked on about how happy we were about Livvy, but she didn't know how my gut turned over in my abdomen at her words. I can't explain it with justice, but I dunno…the idea is so ludicrous, but at the same time, so…_not_.

It's like…sometimes, he says things, or does things, that make me uncomfortable and this weird boy-girl silence comes over us – you know, the kind that only comes about when a boy and a girl are together, young and tongue-tied and so unsure about how to properly bridge each new distance. They're moments that don't quite qualify as moments between friends, moments that stick out like sore thumbs with their queer natures; and then he looks at me a certain way and I find myself craving to know what's going on in his head. It's not friend-like – but at the same time, I'm afraid to classify it properly. It's all so dreadfully confusing.

I'm not ashamed of admitting I'm not entirely comfortable with how things are going with James right now – but I'm sure that if I confided in my friends about it, especially they say things like what Livvy said, they would take it entirely the wrong way.

I love those two girls with all my heart – of course I do – but with something like this, I don't trust their objectivity. And, unfortunately, I trust no one else with a secret such as this. So now I'm trying my best to confide in this diary and then tuck these risky thoughts away for good, because these are dangerous places I might be heading towards, if I'm not careful. Things could get messy if I think too hard.

It's about time for my patrol now, though, so I'd better get going. Hopefully, James's good mood will continue to reign supreme and he won't feel the need to discuss Livvy – because I'm kind of tired now, with all this drama, and I'm not in the mood to dwell on it. I'm exhausted. If I need to, I'll think about it more tomorrow or something.

I think I hear James knocking on my portrait there. I'd better get going. We have a whole patrol to do and I don't think I'll have the energy to write when I return.

All I can say for now is…it's been one hell of a day today. I can scarcely imagine how anything marginally worse could manifest in tomorrow.

But then again, my life is pretty good about surprising me that way.

Wish me luck and here I go.

Until later, then.

--

A/N: I considered adding more, but then I was like, "Nahhhh. It's long enough." Whether or not James said something earth-shattering during patrol (considering the Valentine's Day situation and all) is a question better left for the next chapter.

But trust me – you're a lot closer to what you want than you think. So hang in there and we're getting to some of the areas I've been itching to get at for a while now.

That being said, please read and review and I will do my best to update again ASAP. I've been busy lately, but so hideously exhausted that I end up writing this story just to get my sanity back. Hence…more writing than I expected. But I still don't want to promise anything.

Hit the review button on the way out and be sure to visit again next chapter!


	41. I am Considerably Insulted

A/N: Awww…you guys are really epic. You make me smile. Like, a lot. You get me excited and pumped to write the next chapter, and I do, and then you say something else, and the cycle continues. It's kind of cool, so thanks for that.

Some of you are also quite irritated that I didn't include patrol last night. That was because it wasn't important – but this chapter is, so hopefully you will be more excited than irritated at me.

As for Livvy and Russell…they seem to be in the clear, but really, there's more drama yet to come. It's on the back-burner for a little while, though.

And the L/J…we are so close. Too close. _Trust _me there. I really don't want to give it away, so all I can say is, 44 is the number you want to remember. And 46 is one of two numbers you want to love. Mmkay?

So, that being said…enjoy. Hopefully.

Cheers.

--

February 16

**8:15 AM**  
_Status_: Meh

So, it's Sunday morning, and I'm kind of exhausted, and I'd really like some breakfast right about now (toast and jam – yum!), but I figure all that can be put on hold for the time being. Before I do anything else, I think I need to write about yesterday's Valentine's Day excursion.

I think it's definitely worth noting down for archive's sake.

See, yesterday, pretty much anyone eligible to go to Hogsmeade took advantage of the visit; they were all thoroughly excited about an addition to the Valentine's Day joy we endured on Friday. Unfortunately, my friends were among the people in this category, because they had boyfriends and therefore cared that they got to pass a few hours doing nothing in particular.

Alice, being Alice, was more than ready to goof off with Frank, pouncing on him in a hug when she saw him coming into the Great Hall. The two of them are in some sort of extended honeymoon period or something, where neither of them can do any wrong and everything is perfect and nothing will come between them.

I say this not negatively, but wondrously – because Alice and Frank have always been good friends, rarely fighting, and their courtship seems rather the same way, which I admire. Frank is very gentle with Alice, while Alice is everything but gentle – he is like an apple hanging innocently from a tree and Alice is like the violent wind constantly jostling it around, but amusing it and keeping things moving.

They're utterly sweet together – it's a wonder they never thought to date earlier – and it was kind of a given that they'd go and act all couple-like in the village together for a few hours.

Livvy, meanwhile, was filled with new energy after her run-in with James. She had basically been given the okay to be as girlfriend-ish as she wanted with Russell. The two of them appeared thrilled by this – they kissed every time they met up or left each other, they sat together at mealtimes, they cuddled at any available second.

They also went to the village together as well, and they seemed happy, but I dunno, there was something about them I couldn't put my finger on. It was weird – when they were walking, Russell never took her hand first. Livvy was always the one to seize his fingers and he would simply go along with it, as though Livvy knew better. Then they'd sit together and he'd hold her and gently kiss her hair while she talked, and she'd turn her head suddenly and give him a good snog before returning to what she was saying, leaving him slightly bemused.

They just weren't on the same page all the time – and now that they are together in public, that has become almost heartbreakingly obvious.

Livvy never showed any signs of knowing something was wrong, but Russell was almost distant when Livvy attacked him – he didn't seem as into it as he did in the earlier days of their relationship. He obliged her, of course, but he always seemed happiest when she was curled up in his lap, or when he could kiss her hair, or when she rested her head on his shoulder.

The simplicity completed him, while it left Livvy wanting more. That couldn't be a good thing.

So, my two friends, their boyfriends, and I went to Hogsmeade yesterday afternoon after lunch, chattering away cheerfully as we took the familiar path down to the village. Once we got there, the question of where to go and what to do came up – and actually, it was kind of tricky.

Our group was made up of five people – Alice, Frank, Livvy, Russell, and me. There were two couples and one odd one out, which was me. Now, the two couples kind of wanted to go off and be couples together, celebrate the cold, sunny Saturday, but they also didn't want to neglect their third wheel, which didn't have a boyfriend to snuggle. There lay their moral and ethical dilemma – friend or boyfriend?

There was some discussion of going to the pub and having a drink as a large group, so as to include me too, but I felt bad for screwing with my friends' fun and I told them to go ahead and have at it. I would find something to do. I assured them that I didn't mind being in the village alone – and for their sake, I wouldn't.

They put up a bit of resistance, insisting on something together, but it also didn't take much to get them to agree. That left me standing alone by the entrance to the village while Livvy and Russell headed off to The Three Broomsticks and Alice and Frank headed off to Zonko's for a spot of fun.

Once they were gone, I considered a little window-shopping, but I wasn't quite in the mood. I decided just to head to Honeydukes and get something sugary – sugar always made me happy and although it's kind of a sad picture to see a girl eating chocolate by herself on Valentine's Day, I tried my best not to think about it.

I mean, I was hungry. Never mind that I'd just had lunch. I wanted chocolate and damn it, alone or not, I would get some.

I made my way to Honeydukes with a fair stride, trying to look purposeful, like I was going out to do something thoroughly important. I don't know how well it worked, but no one stopped me to talk or anything, so I figured it was all right. I got to the shop a few minutes later and it was full to the brim with people, all sitting around or looking at sweets or buying something for their significant other. I blended right in with the crowd as I approached the bloated queue at the cash register, thinking I'd just get a little something and be done with it.

However, while I was standing there and waiting, I heard someone say my name.

"Lily!"

I turned around and looked for the source, the single voice in the crowd who separated themselves out by calling me out, and then I saw James waving merrily at me, just a few meters away.

"Lily, come here!" he shouted over the din of voices.

"I'm in the queue – you want to come here?" I shouted back.

"All right!" he returned, squeezing past a couple about to kiss over their ice cream and coming over to me. He looked utterly pleased to see me and gave me a hug.

The hug did the trick – my mild loneliness was instantly forgotten, and I felt warm and good to be here with a friend who made me happy.

"Hi," I said, smiling hugely as I released him. "Nice to see you!"

"You too," he said, smiling just as hugely. "What are you up to? Got a hot date?"

Somehow, he didn't look as pleased when he said the last four words.

"No," I said. "I'm here to stuff my face with chocolate while Livvy is otherwise occupied and cannot discourage me from it."

James laughed. "Well, that's always good," he said appreciatively.

"What about you?" I asked. "I know your friends all have hot dates – what about you?"

"Not really," he admitted. "I got a few offers, but I didn't take them."

"Aww, why not?" I wanted to know as I shuffled up two steps closer to the cash register. "Didn't you always love having a date for today?"

"Not this year," he said, shrugging. "I dunno…I just wasn't into it. I didn't want to put some girl through the trauma of an inattentive date."

"Sweet of you," I said with a smirk.

"But…I mean…if you want…I can get you something and we could hang out together," he suggested, slow and careful, his beseeching hazel eyes turned on maximum innocence. "It's not like a…a _date _or anything. Just two friends having coffee or something. Since we're both loners and all."

I could see how this may sound awkward – asking a girl to have a drink on Valentine's Day when you've vowed to only be friends. But, on the other hand, I can also see how this could be natural – two friends, not in the mood for a real date, just hanging about and having drinks, chatting as we always do almost every night.

And, I mean, I couldn't go around pretending I had other things to do, because I didn't.

So, I considered his offer for a few seconds, and then said, "Sure. All right. But I want to buy my own coffee."

"Sounds good," he agreed, his face lighting up a little with that smile of his. "You want to hit The Three Broomsticks, then?"

"Yes," I said. "Let's go."

James offered me his hand, but I bit my lip and didn't take it, choosing instead to walk beside him to the pub. The two of us then made our way down the crowded High Street together. The wind had picked up a little bit and it was colder, so I came a little closer to James, his body heat attractive in the winter air. He didn't try and hold me or anything, which was good, but we also walked to The Three Broomsticks without really saying anything at all.

I was a little nervous, at that point, that I had made the wrong decision – but once we got to the pub, I found I didn't have anything to fear. James managed to get us a table, somehow, and put a jinx on it to stop people from taking our seats before leading me up to the queue for drinks.

"There are too many people here today," he complained. "It's going to take forever, I swear."

"I know," I said. "I don't know if even The Three Broomsticks can keep up with this demand."

"But either way, we're here, so we might as well talk," he said reasonably. "What're your plans for the day?"

"I dunno," I said honestly. "Livvy and Alice have their boyfriends, so I was just going to loiter here for a bit and then go back to the castle. I have some homework I would do well to finish."

James nodded and tapped his foot, watching another couple get their drinks and move away, making room for another couple, this one looking rather indecisively at the board of choices. I sighed and so did James. We shared an exasperated glance.

"This is going to take forever," I said.

James considered. "Not necessarily…"

He stepped a little bit out of the line, seeming to search for something/someone. I watched him have a go at it for a few seconds, before he suddenly shouted, "OI! AMOS! Over here!"

Amos Diggory – who was waiting for his turn in line next, with his date, Marianne – glanced wildly back to see James waving his arms like a windmill at him.

"Oi! Potter! How goes it?" Amos called.

"Not bad," said James. "But I've got a thirsty girl over here – you want to make our lives easier? Please?"

Amos considered this, but not for very long.

"Sure thing, mate! Who's your thirsty girl?" he asked.

James chose not to answer this. To be honest, I'm not even sure he heard the second part of his statement in his excitement for the first, but I can't rule anything out. He took my wrist and we shuffled to the front of the line, while people glared at us and Amos stood waiting. He let us step in front of him and Marianne; but once he saw us together, he couldn't abate his dumbfounded stare.

"_Lily Evans_?" he inquired, incredulous. "You snagged _Lily Evans_ as your date? Merlin's beard, Potter, well done!"

Instantly, the two of us went bright red.

"No, no, we're not here on a date," I assured Amos as James began to open his mouth. "We're here as friends, because neither of us could _get _a date – and our friends ditched us."

Amos still didn't look completely convinced.

"He's getting you a drink though," he pointed out.

"No," I said curtly. "I'm getting my own drink. James is simply providing a means to the front of the line."

"You call him James," said Amos.

"I've asked _you _to call me James about a million times – _you _are the stubborn prat who insists on calling me Potter," James reminded him.

"Ah," said Amos, finally understanding, but somehow not really. "Right, right. So…friends? Quite a change from last year, and the year before, eh?"

My cheeks were so warm, I could've sworn they were ready to burst into flame. I didn't really know what to say to that. James, however, took over the supremely awkward conversation for me.

"Well, Amos, people change," he said. "We thought we knew each other, but we didn't. So, now that we know that, we're friends. Easy as pie."

Now, James knew as well as I do that we were the furthest thing from 'easy as pie,' but the phrasing seemed to do it for Amos, who nodded thoughtfully and let the matter drop.

Or, really, he could've let it go because it was time for me and James to order – but you know, I'd like to think Amos has more discretion than that.

James asked the waitress for two coffees and she immediately scampered off to get them, while James dug into his pocket for money. I rifled through mine too, but I got nothing but empty air. Frantic, I searched the other pocket, but there was still more empty air.

Then I remembered – _holy fuck, I left my money in my other pants_. I was going to wear those today, but I changed my mind at the last minute, wore these, and never took my money out of there.

Fuck.

I bit my lip, thoroughly pink in the face, and I said to James, "You know, on second thought, who needs coffee? It's too strong and bitter and I'm not quite in the mood for some. The weather's not quite right. I don't want any."

James was understandably confused. "But…you wanted one a minute ago," he said.

"A girl can change her mind, can't she?" I inquired.

James narrowed his eyes, giving me this X-ray type of look, like he could see past my face and peek into what I worked so hard to suppress. His eyes flickered to my hands, which were in my pockets, and came back to my pink cheeks.

He put two and two together and concluded, "You forgot to bring your money, didn't you."

I blushed even redder and that was all he needed.

"It's no big deal, I can pick this one up," James assured me.

"No!" I protested.

"You can repay me when we get back to Hogwarts," he said.

"No!" I protested again.

"Lily. Come on," he said. "It's just a coffee. Let me get this one."

"You don't need to," I objected.

"But I want to," he said. "Lils, I'm not being unreasonable – you don't have your money and I do. It makes sense. I'm not being chivalrous or anything."

While we were having this argument, the waitress arrived, looking harassed, two coffees in her hand. We almost didn't see her as we debated the money issue, but she saw us and saw that we were taking more than ten seconds to grab our coffees, pay, thank her, and get out.

She was the one to finally end the conversation by saying, "Hurry along now, that'll be eight Sickles."

I gave James one final, desperate look, but he ignored it and handed over eight silver coins. The waitress shoved the coffees in his hands and he handed one to me. The two of us left the register together, sipping at the hot liquid, but my face was much warmer than both drinks put together. We didn't say anything on our way out.

As we wandered the High Street together, drinking in silence, however, my manners did make a spectacular return and I said, "Thank you."

"What for?" James seemed distracted, blinking a few times before focusing back in on me.

"For the coffee," I said. "I owe you four Sickles."

"If it makes you feel better," he said with a shrug.

This threw me. "Yes…it would," I said.

"Then you owe me four Sickles," he said.

There was something about his tone that I couldn't quite put my finger on – something kind of sulky, bitter, and it didn't sound right to me. A crease came between my eyebrows and I looked at him suspiciously.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said flatly.

"Well, whatever it is, it's not _nothing_," I told him. "Come on. Tell me. What's going on?"

"Merlin, Lily, I already told you it's nothing," he said, distantly and almost waspishly. "Drop it."

"Is this about the coffee?" I inquired. "Is this about wanting to pay you back?"

"No," he said, but his ears turned red, so I knew I'd hit the jackpot.

"It is," I said triumphantly.

"_No_," he insisted.

"James, you don't need to play the hero all the time," I said. "I am perfectly capable of paying for my own coffee. I just had an idiot moment this morning when I changed my pants. You don't need to take responsibility all the time for my mistakes."

"Friends do things for their friends," he told me, quietly so I knew this was honest. "It's kind of offending when you treat me differently."

"Are you kidding? Alice and Livvy never let me forget how much I monetarily owe them," I said.

"Well, that's not how it works with me," he informed me.

"Unfortunately, your way doesn't work with me either," I said.

"So…why won't you just let me do something for you, for once?"

"Because you do things for me all the time," I said. "I haven't forgotten that birthday party, you know. Or the time we went to the kitchens. Or the time you saved my bag from the lake. Or the time you comforted me about my sister's engagement. I just…want to pay you back."

"You make me happy," said James, blunt and simple, stopping in the middle of the road with this blazing look in his eyes. "You do. So if I can do something small to show you that, what's so bad about it?"

"The fact that it's not your decision to make," I said. "If we're really friends, you'll see my way of thinking and respect it."

"I could say the same about you," he shot back. "It's coffee, Lils. Will you stop acting like it's some huge expose of your weakness or something?"

Finally, I kind of lost my temper and said, "You are not my boyfriend. I'll pay you back tomorrow, during the prefect meeting. We've got one at two o'clock."

His jaw was set and so was mine, our eyes hostile – this was pretty much the first time all year we had gotten close to getting seriously angry at each other. It saddened me, in a way, that all it took was a boy trying to buy me coffee to get me up the wall. Silly, silly me.

I bit my lip and averted my eyes, shoving my coffee into his free hand and muttering, "Happy Valentine's Day, James."

And then I left him standing there holding our coffees, without looking back. Just like that. I returned back to the castle and curled up on my bed, cuddling my throw pillow because my throw pillow never tries to buy me things. I then lay back and took a nap for a few hours, until Alice and Livvy returned from Hogsmeade.

They came in and were highly astonished to find me sleeping at such a bizarre time – and on Valentine's Day, no less – but I wasn't in the mood to tell them about my childish, bratty behavior. I wanted to hear about their afternoons. So I asked them and they eagerly talked, telling me with this glow in their faces about how wonderful their lives were.

It was all fine and well and we spent the entirety of the evening together, hanging about in my dormitory, but I couldn't stop thinking about James, and that weird look he gave me before I finally gave up on him.

At last, I couldn't take it anymore. Screw the prefect's meeting. I took out my other pants, extracted four Sickles, and excused myself to the bathroom. I put them in a clear baggie and went to James's portrait hole. I wasn't sure if he was in there or not, but he would be soon. I placed the bag in front of the painting and knocked on it. I thought I heard footsteps, so I went back to my dormitory and rejoined my friends. I forced myself not to think about the situation anymore.

Now that I've slept on it, the whole thing does seem rather sillier than it did yesterday; but at the same time, I cannot deny that I'm annoyed with James. These little things, they add up. Yesterday, it was buying me coffee; today, if I'd let him, who knows what it could be? Who knows what would happen?

I cannot let him think it's acceptable to act like my boyfriend. For both our sakes, I cannot, because he is not my boyfriend and even if he wants to be, he can't. He just can't. I'm not ready for a relationship – with him or with anyone. We are _not _going to be anything, we are just friends, and if this progresses anywhere, I'm bolting in the other direction.

Some people are not meant to be in each other's lives. I thought it would be okay to keep James on the fringes of mine, but he is eating his way through the scenery onto center stage and that is not okay.

Hopefully, no more will go down today at the prefect's meeting; but otherwise, I don't intend to see him today and tomorrow is another day. I'll take it when it comes.

**3:30 PM**  
_Status_: Slightly irked

So after lunch today, I had to attend our monthly prefect's meeting – it's utterly important at the moment, as crucial plans for our soon-to-be school dance are finally coming together in almost-physical form. I'm actually thoroughly excited by all the development, because we've never had a proper "dance" at Hogwarts and here, in my final year, we get a chance to possibly arrange one together. So I walked into the meeting enthusiastic, ready to talk about money and themes and publicity.

When I arrived, almost everyone had already settled in, casually sitting in their chairs and talking amongst themselves. A quick scan of the room revealed we were only waiting on Trey Miller, the male Gryffindor prefect – Kate Patterson had to meet a teacher for extra help and couldn't make it. I sat down in my seat, putting my bag down by my chair and re-tying my ponytail so that it was neater. No one really paid me much attention.

Well…except for one person.

James, of course, was sitting in the chair beside my usual one, slouched back with his hair in his face, his eyes indecipherable. Once I sat down, I could feel those eyes on me, wondering how to regard me after yesterday, but I wasn't in the mood to talk and I ignored him. I'd see him tonight for patrol, anyway. If he so wished, we could talk then. But otherwise, I was not about to engage in any conversation with him. This conviction made the air kind of weird and stiff between us.

Fortunately, though, we were spared the trauma of being suspended in our silence for too long. Only a couple of minutes later, Trey arrived, plopped himself into the last remaining chair, and I was able to say clear my throat and say, "Hello, everyone. How are you?"

There were a few murmured assurances of good health, but nothing more definite, so I continued on, "Right. So, I assigned you roles at the end of our previous meeting, correct? Have you gotten any work done?"

Mavis raised her hand and I gave her the floor. She smiled, blushing at the idea of standing before us as though she was Annie Potent, and said, "Well…I was brainstorming with Trey and Will about how best to plead our case. We decided to go with a primarily logical approach, but supplemented with feedback from the students. We definitely ought to tell them soon, so we can get support for our movement. That usually works best with teachers."

"Very good," I said approvingly.

"We were thinking of having a student petition, too," added Trey. "You know, to show we're into it."

"And we should talk to Dumbledore directly, as a big group," said Will. "So that he knows we're serious about the whole thing, and it's a team effort."

"That sounds great," remarked James with a grin, leaving behind the odd mood he'd had a few minutes previously. "Nice plan. What about the rest of you?"

"Me and Abby were talking about money," said Michael Fink, surprising us all. He rarely ever talks during prefect meetings because he thinks they're a waste of time – and he's a Slytherin, which doesn't help his cause.

"Yes," said Abigail Snyder promptly from beside him. "We thought we could have a collection bin in the Entrance Hall, so that students can pitch in and we can use it to pay for the various expenses – like food and decorations. That way, the teachers don't have to do a thing. We can do it all ourselves."

"I was also thinking," spoke up Jonathon, "that we ought to have a theme for the whole thing. Now, me personally, I was thinking we could do Paris, or London by night, or something like that, but it's something to discuss."

"This is brilliant, guys – you seem to have this really well under control already," I said encouragingly. "I like the collection bin idea, Abby, it's a good one. Jonathon, you're absolutely right, a romantic theme would be perfect. We ought to discuss that right now – what do you guys want to do for the theme?"

"We could do a night of royalty," suggested Annie Potent, making her first comment of the afternoon with shining eyes.

"We could do a circus theme," snickered Will. "Under the big top or something like that."

"I like a city theme, like Jonathon said," argued Mavis. "How about…I dunno, a night on the town?"

"This school _is _a circus," pointed out Will.

"I like Annie's royalty idea," said Abby.

"We should put it to a vote," interrupted James, as people erupted into mutters of dissenting opinions. "That's the best way to do it. So…we have three ideas. A night on the town, a circus, or a night of royalty. Who wants…a night of royalty?"

Annie, Michael and Abby raised their hands for this one, but no one else did. James clicked his tongue.

"Sorry, ladies and gentleman," he said, nodding politely to them. "So…what about Will's circus idea?"

Will raised his hand, grinning lazily at his own humor, but he was the only one who did so. James smiled sympathetically at him.

"So I'm assuming the rest of you want a night on the town?"

Mavis, Will, Trey, Jonathon and I raised our hands for this one.

"There we go, then, a night on the town," said James happily, beaming around the table. "Sounds like a plan."

"Abby, can you work with Kate on advertising the dance to the students?" I asked. "I know she had wanted to do that."

"Sure," said Abby nonchalantly.

"Right…that makes our appeal group Annie, Mavis, Trey and Will," I said, pointing them out around the table. "We ought to get the teachers in on our plan right away – I'm thinking the twenty third, actually – because I want to get enough time to properly plan and have this party. I mean, you guys have your O.W.L. exams and we have our N.E.W.T. exams – this shouldn't interfere with our grades or our studying schedule."

"It should," muttered Mavis.

"You four I just named – make sure you are ready with your argument on the twenty third," I said. "I'm trusting you to get this right on your own. Please make sure you have a mature case to make. James and I will be there for trouble-shooting, but I'd rather we didn't say too much."

"Jonathon and Michael, start thinking up decorations for the dance, too," said James. "Once the appeal is through, that group can join you – and your part comes later anyway – but you know, it's good to start thinking about what it should look like before we dive into the project."

"Nice move, James, giving us two _guys _the creative decoration work," said Jonathon with a grin.

"Just for now," said James. "Later, you'll have Annie and Mavis to help you, as well as Trey and Will, who are, I'm sure, masters of creativity."

"You know it," said Trey, grinning as he gave Will a high-five.

"Right…and me and James will be doing book-keeping and helping you all get everything together," I said. "Wonderful. We all have roles. Can we start getting to work then?"

"Sure we can! Sounds good, Lily," said Jonathon, giving me a thumbs-up.

"Yes, Lily – we'll see you the twenty-third!" said Mavis, grinning. "Shall we meet here?"

"Yeah, here is fine, thanks for checking," I said. "Good luck to you appeal people and we'll meet again in March, when we have a clearer idea of what the teachers think about the dance. James and I can keep you posted."

"Thanks, you lot!" said James. "Get out of here and enjoy the rest of your weekend."

There was an appreciative cheer for this as the prefects picked up their bags and began filing out of the room, pleased as we were about the brevity of the meeting. James grinned on after them, reminding Abby to talk to Kate next time they saw each other; but once all the witnesses were gone, I could see the murkiness from before the meeting resurface in his hazel irises. He watched me as I packed my bag and he packed his, so close to each other physically while so far emotionally.

"Good meeting," he said curtly, solely for the sake of breaking some of the thick air between us. "Went quickly."

"You too," I said coolly. "Yeah. I think we're going to do well with this dance. They prefects are actually excited."

"They should be," he said. "It's going to be fun."

"I know," I said.

Awkward silence.

Then—

"Hey, Lils, about yesterday…"

"It doesn't matter," I cut him off. "I don't want to talk about it. Just forget it."

"Lily—"

"Did you get the money I left you?"

I could see something a lot like resentment in James's eyes as he said, "Yes. I did."

"Good," I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder. "Then there's nothing left to talk about."

"Lils, you can't mean that—"

"See you tonight," I said, walking out of the room.

For a second, I thought James was going to run after me, whirl around and confront me about my bratty behavior, as he would have in the past; but I was disappointed. He did not come running after me. He didn't make me stop and talk to him. He just let me go. That kind of irritated me – I mean, if he was _so_ determined to discuss yesterday, why would he let me walk all over him and avoid the matter?

It's all so bloody tiresome. I can never tell what that boy means when he talks to me – yet another reason why we would never work out together, even if Alice were to kind of get her way.

Sighing, I quit the corridor of our meeting room and collapsed on top of my bed in my own dormitory, pulling out this diary and noting down the happenings of this afternoon. I'm determined not to think too hard about James, though. I want to focus more on this dance, how much fun it's going to be, and how all the prefects are actually on board with something they can all enjoy.

It's truly the first time we've really connected as a big group this whole year and I like how that is. I feel like I'm doing something right; and with everything else going on right now, that positive energy just hits the spot. I'd rather look at something sweet than at something that muddles me, if you know what I mean. Rays of sunshine are a little more appealing than enormous, threatening storm clouds.

Anyway, speaking of enormous, threatening storm clouds on the horizon, I'd best get going. I have a tiny bit of homework left to do for tonight and then I want to do a Charms practice for the N.E.W.T. exams with Livvy. I don't want to leave that too late, otherwise I know I'm never going to do it. Livvy will be busy training for her Quidditch match, which is coming up in mid-March. She needs to prepare.

I'll write again as soon as I can, then.

Until later.

--

A/N: I considered cutting that prefect meeting, but I decided it was just worth having in there. You need to know how the dance is coming because it'll keep recurring throughout the story. The appeal will take place pretty soon, so keep an eye out for it.

Otherwise…yes, Lily and James are not in the best spot right now. But don't worry. Number 44 is still the one to remember. And besides, tension is fun. Right? Right? Right.

So…review away, you lot, and I hope to update again ASAP!


	42. I Find Myself out of my Depth

A/N: The next six chapters chronicle a proper love story. This chapter didn't come out exactly the way I planned it, but I had a lot of trouble getting it together; and after all that editing, my perception of the flow cannot be trusted. Therefore I now leave it to you to like/dislike/whatever.

So, cheers. You kids have fun.

(Great mood music = Gravity, Sara Bareilles.)

--

February 19

**11:45 PM**  
_Status_: Terrified/vulnerable

If there was ever a time to be truly thankful I have a diary to vent to when things go sour, it would be now, because everything seems to be falling on top of me, a cascade of miseries poured right on my single head.

To start with the superficial, day-to-day stuff, I'm having trouble with Transfiguration lately and it's getting to a point where I'm terrified of not grasping this concept by the time the exams come around. I completely forgot I had a Herbology essay to write yesterday, so I dashed down something during lunch and got a D on it – and Sprout said that was being kind.

It also doesn't help that I'm tired, I'm cranky, I'm stressed out, and I'm feeling guilty about the Valentine's Day incident with James. Guilt, exhaustion, and crabbiness are not a good combination in my book and it's all I can do to stay conscious throughout the day. Patrolling at night doesn't help my sleeping patterns, either.

My solution to feeling miserable is either writing in here or eating like a hog – and with all the chocolate I got on my birthday, I've had ample supply of indulgence food. Now I think I'm getting fat, too, because I've been gorging almost every night and I'm freaking out enough as it is. Livvy insists I'm just the same (weight-wise), but Alice admits that there's a bit of extra malleability to my waist area, and I swear I'm going mad.

And then tonight…tonight didn't help in the least.

In fact, it made things even worse, because it opened up another avenue for me to be scared of – my relationship with James Potter.

I know, I know, the last time I wrote, we were fighting and unsure of the other's position on the matter. I get that. But tonight…like I said, it only made things worse.

Here's how it all went down.

It started off – of course – during our evening patrol. I've been unspeakably nervous about patrolling with James for the past couple of days, given how push-and-pull we can be sometimes, and yesterday's patrol was almost completely silent, save for, "Good evening" and "Good night." It was miserable, I knew, and fairly pathetic, but I didn't have the energy to change anything around. I was – and am – tired. I couldn't deal with it. And I must point out that James made no effort to change anything either, so I have to be at least a little bit in the clear.

This being said, I wasn't exactly sure what to expect tonight, but it certainly wasn't what I got.

The catalyst?

_Sex_.

No, I'm serious. Sex was the catalyst of the weirdness that manifested itself so fully a couple of hours ago. But allow me to explain properly before we run into any faulty conclusions.

See, near the end of our (completely silent) patrol, we passed by a cupboard that seemed considerably more active than some of the other, quiet ones we had walked by. I was kind of excited by this – nothing interesting ever happens during patrol – and I lingered by the cupboard, eyeing it closely.

"What are you doing?" asked James.

"Don't you hear this?" I put my ear to the door. "Yup, those are definitely the cheerful sounds of teenagers snogging instead of being in bed. Totally relevant."

James seemed thrown. Clearly, he'd been distracted, otherwise he would've heard the noises. He came forward and the two of us listened at the door.

"Yeah, you're right," he said rather colorlessly. "You want to bust them?"

"No, you can do it," I said.

"Fine," grumbled James. He seemed distinctly irritable and I hoped (most likely in vain) that it wasn't entirely my fault. "Here, move back."

Obediently, I took a step backwards and James swung the door open with an impressive swing; and, sure enough, two pairs of widened teenage eyes suddenly snapped open and gaped at us. The boy and the girl – young, blonde, startled – were thankfully not yet unclothed, but they were definitely getting there. I couldn't help smirking just a little bit as James cleared his throat.

"Good evening," he said briskly, nodding at them. His authority was cool and in control – absolutely nothing like his personality. The kids, most likely fourteen at best, scrambled up to stand before him, adjusting their clothes and appearing quite pink. The girl spoke first.

"S-Sorry about this," she stuttered, her eyes big, naïve pools of irresistible blue staring up at James. "We…erm…"

"Look, I don't mind that you're…together, but mind the rules, please," he cut her off, attempting to keep the fine balance between curt and polite. "It's past nine and you should be in your common room or your dormitories."

Again, I was astonished – he sounded so…I dunno, mature. He sounded more like a teacher than a Head Boy with emotions that often go off the charts. He was perfectly in control of the situation. I continued to watch with interest.

"It's my fault, I'm really sorry," the boy said. "It won't happen again."

"Are we going to get detention?" The girl's already big blue eyes widened even more at this thought. "I've never had one before."

"I'm afraid so," he said with a sigh, dropping the curtness a little bit. "Names, please?"

"Ben Meadowes," the boy muttered, eyes averting to the floor.

"Andrea Campbell," the girl informed me kind of tearfully, tucking her mousy blonde hair behind her ear and leaning against Ben.

I got out the detention pad and a quill out of my pocket (never really thought we'd be using them any time soon) and silently handed them to James to write them up. He scribbled down their names and was about to sign off on a detention for the two of them, but he seemed to hesitate. His expression was indecipherable, particularly enigmatic, and he seemed to be making an intense decision. I was as interested/confused as the two teenagers when James seemed to come to a consensus and took a breath.

"Okay," he said to the bewildered Ben and Andrea, ripping up the detention slip and pocketing the pieces, "I'll let you go this once. But I want you to swear to me I won't have to catch you at this again."

"Yeah, yeah, we swear," the two hastily assured him together, the epitome of gratefulness.

"Thank you," Andrea stuttered, allowing a tiny smile to appear on her lips. "We're sorry. It won't happen again."

"Never," Ben added for extra emphasis. He smiled too.

"All right," said James, his tone kinder. "Now run off. Straight to your dorms."

Obediently, the two scampered off down the corridor, holding hands and practically flying in their attempt to get as far away from us as possible. I couldn't hold the grin back from my lips – the sight was just too funny. James caught my eye as he turned back to look at me, and despite everything, we couldn't help smirking at each other in response to Ben and Andrea.

"My word," I said.

"What? That we found a couple of kids in a cupboard?"

"No," I said. "That you…let them go."

"It's not that big a deal," he said. "They're kids and they didn't deserve the detention. I mean, one glance could tell you that they were harmless. The scare was more than enough to remind them that hanging out in cupboards was a bad idea. You know?"

"I guess," I said. "But I was still surprised. You handled the situation so…maturely."

"What, and that surprises you?" James was quite offended by the implied allegation. "You don't think I'm mature?"

"No, no, of course not," I said hastily, coloring pink as I always do. "That's not what I meant."

"Oh, then what _did _you mean?"

His tone was instantly combative, his eyes very much the same, and I could tell that I'd hit a sensitive nerve. The weirdness that had been between us since Valentine's Day was right back where it started and I could feel the irritation rise in me like a building tsunami at high tide. I did my best to abate it and keep the situation neutral.

"I just meant…you handled it like a teacher," I said. "You were very responsible."

"So I'm not always responsible?"

I didn't like his tone – how he kept jumping on my words and misreading my intentions. I wrinkled my nose.

"I'm trying to give you a compliment," I said testily.

"Well, it sounds more like a back-handed insult to me," he said just as testily, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as they always did when he got into battle mode.

"Look, I'm just pleased that you did such a nice job, that's all," I snapped.

"Well, I'm glad I'm up to par this time," he said, all-out glaring at me.

There was obviously nothing I could say to change his mind, so I glared back and then simply turned away, because I was irritated and not in the mood to deal with it. We were silent for a few minutes, stiff and most unlike us, mirroring Monday's behavior; and I dunno, I just felt so _bad _about the whole deal.

All this over one bleeding mug of coffee on Valentine's Day. Merlin's beard, were we first years or something? No. We were nearly adults and we were friends. I knew something had to change; and, softening almost all the way down in a surprising turn of emotion, I decided to take the initiative like I hadn't done yesterday and fix this.

"James…"

"What?"

I don't know if he intended it or not, but this single word was spoken with the most disheartening scorn. If it had been _any_one else – I swear it, _any_one, including Alice or Livvy – I would've turned back away in disgust and leave him/her be; but no, this time, I wasn't going to leave it be. This boy mattered to me – I didn't want to give up on him. I made sure I had his gaze locked into mine before I said a single word.

Then—

"James…I'm sorry," I said, as honestly and as bravely as I ever have.

This seemed to throw him momentarily.

"What?"

It's actually rather amazing how one word can change so wholly in meaning with a different inflection.

"I said…I'm sorry," I repeated, biting my lip. "I overreacted yesterday. And my meaning came out wrong today. And…I'm sorry about that."

James considered my apology, taking more time than I would've liked to process it. It kind of broke my heart to consider the idea that he might not forgive me for something so profoundly stupid; and I mean, I knew he'd be fine eventually, because it would be silly to hold me in contempt over a cup of coffee, but I still wanted that reassurance that I was still in his favor, right at that moment, before I could walk away and feel even worse.

So, there, in the middle of the hallway, I stopped dead in my tracks and held his wrist to stop him too. He looked curiously at me, but I just put my arms out for a hug, my eyes on his.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, almost too intimately for the hallway in the midst of patrol.

James looked at me for a couple of seconds, utterly inscrutable, but then with a flicker of hazel he seemed to understand what I was getting at. Immediately, he pulled me into a firm hug, holding me tightly, my breasts squished up against his chest in an uncomfortable but nice sort of way. It felt so lovely, so _warm_, that I could feel myself relax, hold his neck tighter as well. Hugging people always makes me feel better, but hugging James Potter is on a whole different playing field.

"I'm not mad at you anymore, Lils, I'm just trying to figure out why you'd get so upset," he said from over my shoulder, refusing to let go of me. "Why did you do that? Why did you let me think that you…I dunno, were back to hating me or something?"

"Because I didn't want the bleeding coffee and you got it for me anyway," I replied, resting my cheek on the cloth of his shirt, the smell of his neck intoxicating in its own way. "I just…I want to be your friend, James. I don't _want_ anything more from you than that."

I hoped he wouldn't ask me for clarification on this point – because I was in no condition to clarify that point – but thankfully, he didn't, and only held me more securely, stroking my hair as gently as my own father used to do.

Thinking back on it, I wish I could provide a decent description of how _good _he felt to me right then, but the words absolutely fail me. It was like…he was _there_, and solid, and whole, and mine, for those few minutes, and I felt connected to him in a way we haven't been before, so close to him and within easy range of comfort – exposed, in a way. And instead of questioning me, or talking to me in general, he just held me, letting his quiet care say whatever he needed me to know.

Yes, I know he has comforted me before and hugged me on various occasions…but tonight, it felt rawer – realer than it was in times past. We'd done something silly and were making up. There's something sweet about mutual forgiveness between people who care about each other and…like I said, I dunno, I can't provide a decent description of how/why I melted as I did, gooey butter soaking into and softening the firm toast beneath. I just know that he was brilliant.

And that this fact scared the living shit out of me.

See, because once we let go finally, James cleared his throat, checked his watch and found that patrol was pretty much over for the evening. So the two of us went up to our portrait holes and said good-night, shy but earnest, wondering how to transition into normalcy after such an exposing moment of dependence; and I went into my room and I couldn't stop thinking about him.

Really, it was just…I still can't explain it. It was behavior unlike anything I've known since I was thirteen – tying and untying my hair, butterflies fluttering and then gathering in a heap on top of my gut, wishing I could go hug James again again. In short, it was pathetic and I felt like it should stop, because it's not fair that after re-establishing boundaries, I cross right over them.

But the problem was, none of those things stopped because I knew they were there.

He's one of my friends, but I wanted to see him laugh at something I said, smile at something I did, touch me just because he could. I wanted to curl up next to him and have his arm around me. I wanted him to care about me again – and I hated that.

It's a terrifying truth, knowing that you're losing control and someone is taking you over without your permission – or even without knowing it. You feel disoriented, astray in a way, and you begrudge him for doing this to you; but he's the only one who can appease you and make you feel kind of okay again.

It's frustrating and I don't enjoy thinking about James Potter, _James Potter_, with that particular lense. We've had too much happen to us before – too much hurt, too much bitterness, too many faulty treaties and broken promises. I thought we could be over that this year. On that first day in September, when I found out he was my fellow Head, I thought we could take deep breaths, wipe the misery away and start all over, be the friends we could never be, just so that our joint-job wouldn't be such a punishment.

And now…now I don't know what to think. I can literally feel myself changing for him, warming up to him and wanting him _there_, and it's so unlike anything I could've ever imagined.

This is always the hardest part in any relationship – the initial hurdles, getting yourself to believe in the other person enough to trust them implicitly. But the problem with _this _relationship is simply that no matter how hard we try, how many pretty words we say, what happened has happened, and it still dictates who we are as a pair today. I _can't _forget those old feelings of animosity just because they've been replaced by other feelings; and I mean, when you come down to the bottom of the matter, I'm just a teenage girl. There is only so much I can handle before I break and I've got plenty else on my plate.

So, this all this weighing down on my mind, I eventually couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't be quiet up here. I had to move, I had to scream, I had to _do _something, figure out how to appease the foreign sensations churning away in the pit of my stomach. So I decided to go see if Alice and Livvy were awake – because middle of the night or not, I was scared and alone and hurting and these are the times when I need them most.

Almost as if in a dream, I ambled down the corridor and got through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room. To my very great astonishment, Livvy was there, reading a book by the firelight. I couldn't have been happier to see her.

"Livvy!" I cried, running towards her.

"Lily!" exclaimed Livvy, shutting the book and opening her arms up to receive me. "Are you all right, love? You look a mess."

"No, I'm not all right," I admitted, squeezing her skinny little frame with my arms, her familiar smell in my nose, irresistibly like lavender soap. She squeezed me back, of course, as loving as a good friend always is; but I could still hear this hateful little voice in my head saying, _Not good enough._ In an attempt to shut it up, I shut my eyes and held Livvy tighter, so tight I could've snapped her ribs or something, and I could feel her breath constrict beneath me.

But the nice thing about Livvy is that when she can tell you're upset, she won't talk unless you do. Nor will she push you away if she thinks you need her. She's terribly irrational with her emotions and wants, but otherwise, she's logical and she gets things.

Like, instead of backing out of my death grip, she gently rubbed my back and soothed me into loosening my grip. She reduced me to a puddle with her softness and whatever she had been doing previously lay forgotten on the table as I bizarrely found myself ready to cry.

"Can we talk?" I asked.

"Sit down," said Livvy.

Taking a few gulps of non-Livvy-scented air, I took Livvy's hand and we went to go sit on the soft chairs where she had been sitting earlier. She sat across from me so she could see me better and politely waited for me to say something, her expression concerned.

"Where's Alice?" I inquired, simply out of curiosity.

"In bed," Livvy told me. "She wanted to take an early night instead of doing her homework."

"Okay," I said.

As much as I love Alice, I am glad, in a way, that I caught Livvy tonight instead of her. I tell Alice most things; but sometimes, when I deal too intimately with the intricacies of my teenage heart, I am too fragile to deal with her blunt enthusiasm. Right now, I needed Livvy – and she was there.

"Livs, can I ask you something kind of personal?" I requested after a few seconds of us being silent.

"Sure," said Livvy. "Anything."

The whole world seemed to hang in wait as I took a breath and asked, "Livvy, how did you know you were in love with Russell?"

Livvy was genuinely confused. "What do you mean?"

I blushed pink. "I just…I want to know how you knew Russell was the one for you," I said sheepishly. "How did you know he was different? How did you know you wanted to give him a chance? What made it okay for you to…let him and love him?"

"You mean, what made me fall in love with him?"

"Falling in love is something you just do," I said. "I want to know how you figured out you were in it. How you knew you were in love with him."

Livvy swallowed thickly, considering her answer. I watched her, feeling oddly like someone had torn away my skin and left me exposed, and she seemed even more confused after pondering it for a bit.

"Really, Lils, I don't know what to tell you," she said as honestly as she ever has. "Russell and I…we came together by chance. We are on the same Quidditch team and he asked me out on a whim, because we were friends. But I dunno…when we were hanging out together, it felt so comfortable. It felt so _right_. And I guess…I guess it was just after our first date, and I was happier than I'd ever been, and I thought to myself, 'Wow. I think I love him.'"

"And…that was that?"

"That was that," said Livvy simply. "I knew that I wanted to be with him, so I…stopped fighting it. I figured that it wouldn't do me any good if I held myself back from someone so good, just because I was scared."

"But you _were _scared?"

"Of course I was scared," said Livvy with a sigh, the firelight illuminating her features in a lovely way. "I was terrified, Lily. You know me and relationships – they've never lasted too long and I've only been in two of them. But…I dunno how to say it diplomatically. You just have this tug in you that aches for him and aches for him and aches for him and…the walls crumble down. That's when you know you love him."

I bit my lip so hard it almost bled. "Livvy…I hate being in love."

"Tell me about it," said Livvy gently.

"I…I think…I don't know," I said, the confusion welling up in me like a huge bubble one half-breath from popping.

Livvy dragged her chair forward so that she was closer to me and could place her hand on mine, not hard but definitely firm, to assure me that she wasn't going to make me endure this alone.

"Is this…about James Potter?" she inquired, so kindly that I knew she figured it out from the moment I asked her about Russell.

But, as I didn't see any point of lying, the bubble in my chest finally popped and I hugged my knees to my chest as I uttered the single, incriminating word: "Yes."

Looking back on it in hindsight, that conversation could have gone a lot of different directions, once we hit this critical point in the conversation. The lines branched off in every place imaginable, leading to depths unknown to me or to Livvy; but because my friend is a real friend, she chose not to analyze, or freak out, or do anything overt.

She took the slim, barely visible line right in the middle and simply nodded. Then she asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know," I said.

Livvy nodded, accepting this, somehow. "Okay," she said. "But…if you want my advice on the matter, I'd say…go for him."

"How?" A crack in my voice betrayed the sheer fright taking over my mind and body like a poison.

"Trust him," she said. "Trust yourself."

A tear – one single tear – escaped down my cheek. It marked the first I'd ever cried for James Potter and I quickly wiped it away, but I knew Livvy had already seen it.

"He loves you," she told me. "I can tell. He loves you so, so much – he always has – and he wants you to try. So, try. Let yourself fall in love with him too. It can't be half as bad as pretending you don't and trying to shove your emotions away."

"But emotions are supposed to be rational," I practically spat, fierce anger mixing into the bitterness and surprising Livvy. "Emotions are supposed to make sense. They are spontaneous chemical reactions in your brain, that's all. So why do I still feel like this?"

"Because when you try to hold down what is meant to be, you're going to get resistance," Livvy said, her voice rising with mine. "You're going to crack, you're going to leak, and then you're going to break. Why do you want to do that?"

"Because I don't even know," I said, shaking Livvy away and burying my face into my hands. "I just don't even know."

I stayed in the safety of my dark, sweaty palms for a quiet minute or two, listening to the fire crackle and the beat of my heart and the faint sound of Livvy's careful breaths across from me. She didn't say anything aloud, but she still said exactly what I needed to hear. I didn't feel any better, but at the very least, I had someone there who wanted me to, regardless of the time.

And when I resurfaced, I saw that Livvy had a few tears in her eyes as well.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, wiping my eyes.

"Me too," said Livvy, her tone watery.

"Are you going to tell Alice?" I asked.

"No," she said. "You can tell her. If you want to."

"I don't," I said, surprising myself. "Thank you, Livvy."

"Do you want me to camp out with you tonight?" she inquired.

I thought about it and surprised myself by saying yes. I just didn't want to be by myself right now.

"Okay," said Livvy. "Let's go."

She took her book from the table and crossed the common room with me, out of the portrait hole and down the corridors, holding my hand and leading me to my dormitory. When we got there, she flicked her wand a couple times to arrange a bed for herself and lay on top of it, snuggled up by my bed.

"Good night, Lils," she said.

"Good night, Livvy," I said back.

Livvy magically turned off the light and snuggled in for a good sleep, as it was quite late, but I found I couldn't doze off so easily. I still felt like I'd been rubbed raw against a grindstone, so fragile and afraid and unlike me. For no boy had I ever let myself file down to this sad, petrified little creature afraid to see the next day; and yet this one boy…

I'm looking at my clock now and I notice that it's now past one o'clock in the morning. My exhaustion has finally caught up with me and I want to sleep. But I think it was important for me to write; because only at this point, when I have purged all these muddled thoughts from my system, that I feel I am at peace enough to have another attempt at slumber.

But, before I go lights out for the night, this is a reminder for myself in the future, when I read over this page and wonder what the hell was wrong with me:

I am not always like this. And if anyone – myself included – thinks that I am going to act like today's diary entry all the time, they need a serious and bracing reality check.

Because potentially in love or not, I will get myself through this. It's just taking me longer than I thought.

So, that being said…

Good night. I shall try and write again as soon as I can.

--

A/N: Right…well, there you go. Chapter done.

You know, I usually thoroughly enjoy writing chapters like this – intimate and confused and very teenage-girly – but today, for some reason, it took me a lot of effort to get done with this. It was hard for me. I blame school for taking the fun out of everything.

So, despite the trauma I went through getting this done, I hope you liked it.

And, I know I told you Chapter 44 was the one to remember…but I lied. Chapter 44 is a jumping point that will make Chapter 46 the highlight of the near future. So I guess they're both numbers to remember. I just looked at my outline and realized I put in the wrong number, haha.

Okay, okay, I'm done for real this time. Hit the review button on your way out and I'll talk to you again in an indefinite number of days.

Cheers.


	43. I Can't Evade It Anymore

A/N: You guys are epic winners. I swear, you are. I've been blushing and smiling foolishly ever since I last posted. At the risk of sounding melodramatic, you're what's keeping me going at the moment. Other than _House _on Mondays, I have nothing to look forward to except working my ass off. Not fun.

This chapter was going to come out a certain way, but then it felt wrong to me and I decided to take it in a completely different direction that actually gels quite perfectly with what I told you before, about 44 being a big one and 46 being the bigger one. With these next few chapters, I've been finicky and changing my outline every ten minutes, so…I think I've got it now. And I got a nice bit of thought-organizing done during Spanish for the ending I want. (Right now, I have mapped out everything until early May.)

So…enjoy yourselves. Maybe?

--

February 20

**10:45 PM**  
_Status_: Nervous

After tonight's patrol, I have come to a rather disconcerting conclusion:

I am indeed going completely bloody _mad_.

If I had any doubts up until nine o'clock this evening, they are now officially gone.

Allow me to explain.

It all started off innocently enough. James and I were wandering, as ever, and talking about how hungry we were, and how taking another night off of patrolling to go down to the kitchens was quite an appealing idea.

"I could really use some ice cream," James said dreamily. "Double chocolate with extra fudge."

"Are you kidding?" I asked incredulously. "Double chocolate with extra fudge is _my _favorite ice cream dessert!"

James considered. "Okay. I'll take chocolate chips with my extra fudge, then."

I laughed. "Wow," I said. "I didn't know we liked the same ice cream."

"My mum and dad are witnesses – I'm an ice cream addict," he informed me quite proudly. "And Sirius is addicted to whipped cream, while my mum loves peanuts and my dad eats vanilla like it's going out of style. So between the four of us, we never have any dessert in the house when we need it."

I chuckled again, imagining this mental picture, but it didn't escape my notice how affectionately he spoke of Sirius – how inclusive he was of his best friend, speaking of him as though he was truly part of the family. I don't know why it struck me so particularly tonight as we talked about dessert, but it did; and I was going to say something, but I didn't. Too much room to have a potentially awkward conversation.

"That's interesting," I said. "I would've pegged you more as the mint chocolate chip fan, rather than the chocoholic."

"Mint chocolate chip?" This seemed to amuse him. "Do explain, Lils."

"You're…I dunno, it's silly," I said, blushing. "There's no reason for it. Never mind."

"No, I want to hear it!" protested James. "You can't just…_say _something and expect me to let you go when you change your mind halfway through! It's unfair!"

"It's…I don't even know what I was going to say," I somewhat-lied. "There's no point in interrogating me."

James put on an ominous grin. "I'm friends with Sirius Black," he reminded me. "Never underestimate the power of interrogation."

"I don't like that smile of yours," I said, stepping slowly away from him.

He only widened the grin. "Tell me what you were going to say," he said, deadly calm.

I knew that this was a game, that we were just playing around with each other, but I was honestly sort of nervous when he began sizing me up like that.

"No, I won't," I told him. "It's nothing. I don't know why you care."

"Because if you go that red, it must be something worth hearing," he clarified for me. "Now, I'm going to give you one last chance to tell me through your own free will. Then, if you don't take it, I have license to squeeze it out of you however I want – and make no mistake, I _will_. So…what was your reason for me liking mint chocolate chip ice cream?"

Despite all the feelings already going through my stomach, I couldn't stop giggling. He was taking this stupid thing so seriously. Why was he doing that? Why did he invite every opportunity he could to fool around with me, goof off in my presence, kind of like when we were kids? He was so dreadfully confusing.

But, because I felt daring, I decided to see what this interrogation technique was and I said, "No. I'm not going to tell you."

James clicked his tongue. "All right then…don't say I didn't warn you…"

And, without warning, he launched himself at me and knocked me down to the ground, where he started tickling me to oblivion.

Unfortunately for me, I am incredibly ticklish. I got it from my mum, who will start squealing if you approach her stomach with a finger. Petunia and my dad are utterly immune to tickling (something that used to royally irritate me as a child), but I'm not, and when his fingers began hitting those sensitive spots – under my arms, around my middle – I screamed with pure mirth.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" I shouted, tears rolling down my cheeks as I doubled up, flailing and kicking as futilely as a rag-doll against James Potter's outrageously strong arms. "Oh, Merlin, I can't breathe!"

"Tell me!" he insisted like a child, straddling me like a horse and sitting on my legs, both my hands trapped in his.

"_No_!" I managed through my attempts at air. I could barely see for the tears blocking my vision and I felt utterly defenseless – unable to move, unable to cry out. "You…bleeding…arse!"

"Feisty, even under a death grip – impressive," remarked James, unleashing hell under my right arm. "I must say, I underestimated you, Lils."

"Can't…breathe!" I coughed.

This time, he could tell I was for real.

"Oh, right, sorry," he said.

At once, the pressure subsided, as James lifted himself from my gut and took his devil fingers away. Coughing and sputtering, I fought to regain breath, my chest heaving up and down as though James had suddenly morphed into an elephant sitting on my windpipe, and his face filled my field of vision, amused and tracking my progress.

He gave me a few seconds, and when my breathing was back to normal, he pinned my arms down on either side of me, sitting back on top of me, and asked me, "So…what were you going to say?"

His question didn't really register much. All I could think about was how close he was, how brown his eyes were up close, with little flecks of green giving them their hazel shade; how his nose was very slightly bent since he'd injured it so many times playing Quidditch; how thick and full his hair was; how solid he felt on top of me; how he smelled vaguely like grass today.

It made my heart pound a little too fast, knowing he was so close to me, _so close _to me, and it took me longer than I would've liked to formulate a response to his original question.

"Will you promise not to laugh?" I asked.

James instantly beamed and thrust his fist in the air, triumphant in his victory. "Yes!" he said. "I knew it! My monster tickle attack _always _works."

"Great – now will you get off of me?" I requested. "You're not exactly pixie weight."

"Right, right," he said, obliging me and getting up from my gut. Oddly, I felt a momentary coldness in the spot he had left. He offered me his hand and I took it, coming to my feet and running my fingers through my hair, trying to tame it after its recent attack.

The moment I caught James's eye again, he was back to, "So what was it? Why did you think I liked mint chocolate chip ice cream? Which, by the way, I fully well don't?"

"Merlin's beard, James, we're a little desperate here, wouldn't you say?" I said, giving him a wrinkle of my nose.

"Yes," he said unabashedly. "I want to know. Your opinions are utterly intriguing."

I childishly stuck my tongue out at him. "You're an arse."

"You're a subject-changer," he retorted. "Now tell me! You said you would."

"Doesn't mean I can't make you sweat it out a little," I said. "Your tickle maneuver could be considered assault, you know."

"You want to try it again?" asked James, holding his hands up mischievously and wiggling his fingers and eyebrows most suggestively.

"Do it and I'll hex you," I said, pulling my wand out of my pocket and holding it in front of him.

"It'll become a duel," James pointed out, drawing his wand as well.

"So why don't you harness that maturity you displayed the other day with those kids in the cupboard, and let me tell you the way I want?" I suggested.

James made quite an ugly face, but put his wand away.

"You are a born manipulator, Lils," he said. He made it sound like an insult, stated in disbelief, but I could sense something admiring in his tone as well – as though he was utterly pleased that I could twist him into whatever shape I chose, with a few subtly chosen words. It filled me with internal warmth to consider such a possibility.

"Right," I said. "You ready for my theory now?"

"Damn right," he said as we resumed walking down the corridor together.

"Well," I said, taking a breath. "The reason I thought you didn't like chocolate ice cream was because you rarely ever seem to like something mainstream, something everyone likes. You prefer being different, sometimes just for the sake of being different, and chocolate is universal. So…I dunno, I thought you liked mint chocolate chip because it tastes completely different and I haven't met many people who enjoy it. That was all."

James nodded along thoughtfully to my thought process.

"That's interesting, Lil," he said genuinely. "If I had to pick an ice cream flavor for you…I dunno what I'd pick. You're definitely not vanilla, because you're the last bland person I know…I hate strawberry, so you couldn't be that…"

"Hey, I didn't tell you that so you could start trying to psychoanalyze me," I said with a snort. "I have Alice for that."

"I know, but you told me what you thought of me and I was touched you went into such an involved reasoning into why you thought I liked what I liked," he said, surprisingly frank. "So now I'm doing you the same favor."

"James, it's ice cream," I pointed out. "And it wasn't _that _involved. I just picked a random flavor out of my head to exemplify something that everyone already knows."

"I want to pick an ice cream flavor for you," he insisted, quite babyishly I may add. "Please?"

"Leave it," I said, blushing. "You don't have to."

"Please? Please? Please?" He leaned close to me, his eyes all wide behind his glasses, his lower lip jutting out in the most irresistible puppy pout. I'd never really noticed how full and lovely his mouth was before.

"James…"

"_Please_?"

Now he was completely in my face again and I heard a ventriloquist move my mouth into saying, "Oh, all right then."

"Brilliant!" James pulled away from me and immediately went back to thinking hard, his expression one of deepest engagement.

Despite myself, I laughed. His constant mood changes, his ability to tickle me to death without feeling bad, his knowing exploitation of my emotions with those eyes of his…it was all so delightfully, immaturely, amazing. It was so effortless to be around him, and he made me feel like a little girl, and he was so _silly_…he made me happy in the simplest way. I couldn't help admiring his vitality, his easy friendship, and I wanted to tell him that, but I didn't. He was too busy naming ice cream flavors under his breath.

At last, though, he appeared to have found a winner.

"I think," James declared, "that you are most like rocky road ice cream."

"Do explain," I said, unable to withhold my grin.

"_Well_," he said, rumpling his hair as he talked. "See, you remind me primarily of chocolate, because it's easy to like you, and most people do. And you're pretty filling – you don't let people coast, like vanilla ice cream does. You make your audience invest in you, otherwise you don't want them. And I chose rocky road instead of regular chocolate because there's all these little things about you – hard things, like nuts, soft spots, like marshmallows, unexpected treats, like chocolate chips – that make you who you are. You're interesting and unpredictable and you never know what you're going to get. And…I really like that about you."

I was silent for so long, James had to wave his hand in my face and ask me if I was okay, if I was even listening to him.

And, for once, I actually told him how I felt.

"Yes, I'm all right, and yes, I'm listening," I said. "I just…that's probably the sweetest and most insightful thing anyone has ever said about me."

James smiled, utterly pleased. "Really?"

"Yeah," I said. "And now I wish I'd thought a little harder about your ice cream flavor."

He chuckled. "It's okay. I had more of a head-start."

"Yeah, you did." I smiled at him and he smiled back with a brilliance I couldn't mimic even if I tried.

"You know," he said conversationally, "I'm rather in the mood for ice cream now. What do you say? Want to go down to the kitchens and indulge with me?"

I thought about it, but not for very long. He brought out the slacking, slightly-more-reckless side in me.

"Okay," I said. "We only have fifteen minutes of patrol left anyway."

"Right-o!"

James grinned and offered me his hand again. I took it and held it firmly, and he sprinted down the corridor with me in tow, laughing away. Inspired by my amusement, he ran faster and faster and faster, the hallways becoming kind of a blur as we dashed to the kitchens, James leading me because he could run faster.

Approaching our familiar hang-out, he skidded to a stop and we stumbled into the kitchens, where the elves – now more accustomed to our faces – asked us what we wanted.

"Mmmm…mint chocolate ice cream, please," he said, winking at me.

"And rocky road for me," I said, nudging his shoulder with mine.

At once, the elves bounced off to retrieve the ice cream, and James and I collapsed by our favorite wall, our heads against the cool stone, our breaths shallow and erratic as they tried to regulate after our run down.

Once the ice cream came, we were about calm enough to eat it, and we did, taking big heaping spoonfuls and laughing with our mouths open to gross out the other person. James was immovable that way, but I certainly wasn't, and I squealed constantly, whacking his legs and turning my head away.

Our fifteen minutes in the kitchens were spent in complete lightness, playing children's games and thoroughly enjoying them, eating our ice cream and not giving a care about anyone or anything in the world. I don't even remember everything we did, because it was all spontaneous, spur-of-the-moment, whatever we wanted whenever we wanted it.

It was pure escapism, me spending time with someone I cared about, refusing to do what I was supposed to do in favor of doing what I wanted to do. Standards, expectations…none of that arbitrary crap mattered. We simply didn't care. We were all about us, us, us, and I couldn't get him out of my head until I left him to come into my own dormitory.

I swear, though; once reality set in, it set in hard. The moment I was away from him, alone again, I came to the conclusion I started off this entry with:

I am indeed going completely bloody _mad_.

The other day, when I last wrote, I was afraid I was in love with him – to the point where I was crying to Livvy, questioning my very morals, fretting about the impropriety of losing any semblance of control over my emotions.

Now, though, everything has intensified, but in a different way.

There was a moment tonight, when James and I were waiting for the moving staircase to deliver us to the seventh floor – we were standing together beside the railing and I sighed a happy sigh, resting my head on his shoulder, and I said, "I like this."

And in response, James's hand found my waist and pulled me away from the rail, into his side, and he said into my hair, "I like this too."

If he had done this on Valentine's Day, I would've killed him. I would've jumped away from him and shouted at him about respecting someone's personal space. But tonight, I didn't – I let him hold me and he didn't let me go until we got to the landing and we were forced to walk.

Then, when we were about to part ways into our own portraits, he gently stroked the curve of my cheek, brushing my unruly hair away from my eyes, and said, "Good night."

These are dangerous places we're heading towards. Really dangerous. I tried to draw the line on buying me coffee, and yet, here I was, letting him cuddle me on staircases, talk me into actually listening to my whims, analyze me using an ice cream metaphor. How could I let him do that? How could I let him shatter my barriers so matter-of-factly, all the time, every time afterward?

I thought that there was a fine line between love and acquaintanceship. I thought that too much had gone wrong through the years to allow me and James to be more than mere friends. I thought that this was all going to be okay.

But it wasn't.

It wasn't, it wasn't, it wasn't.

I'm afraid. I've been afraid since day one, but now I know, I have good reason to be afraid of what could be.

Because, diary, despite my best efforts and all the resistance I've ever known, I think I might finally be kind of, sort of, potentially, maybe in love with James Potter.

And I know this cannot bode well for me, for him, or for the rest of humanity.

And on this cheerful note, I will sign out for the night and return once proper measures have been taken – i.e. talking to Alice and Livvy, freaking out a little bit more here and with them, and perhaps admitting myself to an insane facility.

So, good night (although I don't think I'll be sleeping much) and I reckon I'll write again some time during this weekend.

Until then.

--

A/N: Flow-wise, I am never sure how I'm doing (particularly by the end there) so I have decided to give up when I get to a certain point and leave the rest in your hands.

I am excited about the next chapter. And the two after it. So…read and review, por favor?

Cheers!


	44. I Come to a Crossroad

A/N: This took a while, I know, I know, but I've got it here now, shined up and ready for your scrutiny after its third rewrite. I'm still positive it's not good enough for you, but it's as good as I can get it and that's all you have.

And by the way – just because L/J are about to get together, doesn't mean their story is over. I don't want to make either character boring because they're in a relationship. I'm not into Foreteen-type writing (a metaphor that only makes sense if you're a fellow House fan).

You know this drill – read, enjoy, review, preferably in that order.

And a special thanks to my epic winner **Niki**, for looking this over for me once to make sure I didn't present you with complete and utter shit, like usual.

Cheers.

--

February 23

**8:00 PM**  
_Status_: …

I'm not going to lead into it. I'm not going to even attempt to properly explain how I'm feeling – out-of-breath, exhilarated, panicking, my heartbeat off the charts, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I'm just going to write everything down, with every single excruciating detail, and see how I feel when I've relived the experience one more time. It's one of those things where you kind of need to go through it again, just to make sure that yes, it really happened, and no, I'm not going _completely _mad, although the idea is debatable.

So…how it happened. Uncensored, unrated. Just the story for everything it was.

It all went down nearer to the end of our patrol. James and I were walking through the corridors together, as usual, and we were talking, also as usual. On this particular night, the subject had turned to my two _favorite _things – love and appearances.

Thankfully, I hadn't chosen/initiated this topic. James brought it on himself.

We had originally been talking been talking about Quidditch, and how the team was shaping up extremely well for their upcoming match on the twelfth of March. However, the conversation was quickly diminished because I had a very dim knowledge of Quidditch that couldn't stand up to someone like James, who lived and breathed it.

So of course we fell into our thoughtful silence, pondering what to say next, and James was the one to remark, "Sirius broke up with Gabrielle today."

"Really?" I asked politely. But, in all honesty, I didn't know who Gabrielle was and had no idea Sirius was dating her.

He picked up on that. "Yeah," he said. "You know, Gabrielle – the girl Sirius took out on Valentine's Day?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said, suddenly remembering her name, face, and status. "Sorry…I always forget who's going out with whom. It changes all the time and I'm too busy to keep track of it anyway."

"Well, I mean, normally I don't get too involved with it, but in this case, as it directly refers to my best friend, I kind of know about it," said James, grinning. "And it's probably the only interesting thing going on in my life, besides homework and Quidditch."

"I know what you mean," I said, referring to the latter half of his dialogue. "So tell me. Why did Sirius break up with Gabrielle? I thought they were really into each other."

"That's what I thought too," he said, "but apparently not. They had a bit of a row this morning, because they were going to go for breakfast and Gabrielle just wanted to snog. Sirius said no and she told him she didn't feel close enough to him. She said he ignored her."

"Was the claim justified?" I asked.

"Kind of," said James, "but you have to understand, right from the get go, that you're dealing with a force of nature when you deal with Sirius. He's a great guy, really passionate, but he has his own way of doing things, and he won't want to bend too far for you if you can't handle it. Gabrielle was pushing those boundaries. She favored clingy romance over practical affection. Sirius just isn't into that."

"So I assume he got irritated, told her to clear off, and will be sulking for the twenty-four hours after the incident," I guessed.

He clapped appreciatively. "Yes, Lily, very good. He did indeed do exactly that, so Peter and I left him to Remus, who is the best of us at psychoanalysis. It's a touchy situation this time – Sirius hasn't dated in a long time and this is why."

"Well, who told him to go pick Gabrielle?" I pointed out. "She's a tart. Anyone could have told him that."

James shrugged. "I dunno. She was available."

"So were a lot of other girls," I said.

"He sort of has this thing for a girl – nothing major, only a little partiality – to one girl, but she's got a boyfriend we don't reckon she's breaking up with any time soon," he told me. "And he was bored. He decided to try and now he regrets it. I don't trust myself with a betrayed Sirius – I'd much rather Moony handle him. I'd probably go hex her for making him miserable."

I chuckled. "Yeah…I can see that happening."

"Sirius is emotionally picky," said James. "It takes him a lot to trust someone completely. When someone hurts him and makes him want to be even pickier, I get defensive. It's a guy thing."

"Not really," I said. "I feel that way about Livvy all the time. I wanted to hurt _you _for the longest time after you two broke up."

James looked distinctly uncomfortable when I referenced this. He's not entirely proud of what happened between him and Livvy in their year-long relationship, spanning from fourth year to fifth year.

Okay, pause. Rewind. I need to give a little history lesson here before we continue.

See, back when we were fourteen and stupid, Livvy rather fancied James and took a shot at a relationship with him, despite all the protestations raised by me and Alice – me, because he was my worst enemy back then, Alice because she insisted he was made for me. They went all right, and they seemed to really like each other, until that fateful day in fifth year.

Although James had made a habit of harassing me since third year, he didn't romantically harass me until fifth year, when he decided that I was more to him than the red-haired girl who kept flaring up at his idiocy.

This plainly affected his relationship with Livvy in a negative way, because he was openly pursuing her best friend when she was still mad for him.

She confronted him about it one night in April, rounding on him when he had just finished asking me out again, and they got into a bitter, public fight about it. Livvy cried and said he betrayed her; James yelled and said she didn't understand him; Livvy screamed that he never loved her; James told her she was a clingy romantic at heart, no matter what she was at all other times; Livvy took it hard and he broke up with her on the spot. Livvy spent the rest of the night crying and she wouldn't speak to me for a few days, because she thought I was the reason she lost her boyfriend. _Those _were fun times.

It evened out eventually – James and Livvy calmed down, apologized, and became determined friends, while James went back to pursuing me and Livvy decided it was okay to speak to me again, since I didn't actually like his treatment of me in the first place. But I was furious with James for a while, because he hurt Livvy and used me to do so, and I _did _want to kill him for a little while. I told him so, too. But he still doesn't like hearing about it now because it was two years ago and he feels bad about what he did. He has the remarkable ability to think with his arse at the best of times.

So, coming back to the real story of the matter, I made my remark about wanting to hurt James after he and Livvy broke up and James fidgeted a little, going rather pink in the face. It was kind of nice to see him blush, though, because usually I'm the one blushing and he's the one in control.

"Okay, so maybe that's not a guy thing," he said, "but we Marauders, we're careful about Sirius. He's tough, but he goes pretty far the other way too."

"But looking at him, you would never guess," I admitted. "For the longest time, I thought Sirius was the lazy, handsome prick in the back of the room picking out the prettiest girls around him."

"He does that too," said James with an enormous grin, "but there's more to us than being lazy and good-looking, Lils. Well, except Remus, who probably doesn't have a lazy bone in his body. But you know what I mean."

"I do," I said genuinely. "None of you are anything like what I would've thought. Particularly you."

"I guess that should be a good thing," he said half-jokingly, his eyes weirdly anxious. "I mean, I was never really your favorite person in the world, was I?"

"No," I said, letting my tongue do the talking without bothering my brain, "but…I dunno. Now you kind of…are."

Looking back, I'm not exactly sure what impelled me to make that stupid, stupid, stupid remark. Obviously I went very pink at my idiocy – I mean, come on, have we already forgotten what I wrote about last entry? – but I was more astonished to find that James was almost as pink as I was. He rarely ever did that – contrary to popular belief, he tends to be the controlled one rather than me – and I was confused.

"Wait, are you—?"

"Lils, we've got to—"

We both tried to talk at the same time after an exceedingly awkward pause, and we both ended up stepping on top of each other's words in quite an unattractive way.

"Erm…what were you…?"

"No, it's fine, Lil, go ahead…"

"I was just going to ask what was going on," I said, so red I swear I looked infected. "So you go ahead."

"I just…we need to talk. Can we do that?" said James, so painfully earnest that I got knots in my throat (which, no, I didn't think was possible before today).

"Yes," I said, feeling oddly breathless. "Yes, let's talk. What do you want to talk about?"

"I want to talk about…well, about you and me," he said seriously. "I've been sitting on this a long time…and I think we have to let it out in the open. Now or never."

"You can tell me anything," I reminded him, though my steadily accelerating heart would probably beg to differ.

"Let's see if you feel that way after I'm done," said James, bafflingly grim.

"Try me," I said, now determined to prove him wrong.

"Believe me, I'm going to." James took a breath. "Okay. Do you…remember the Christmas present I got you this year? The one I sent you over break?"

"Yes," I said, the memory of that gorgeous bouquet flashing in my mind's eye. "Yes, I remember it."

"Well…do you remember _all _of it?" he asked tentatively, tensely.

"Erm…" I tried to think, but it was such a long time ago (two months is incredibly long when you have the schedule I'm on) that I honestly couldn't capture the entire picture when he asked for it. I could swear there was something important about it, though, something elusive that my poor brain couldn't reproduce on the spot.

"C'mon, Lils, think about it," said James would-be-patiently, his too-emotive eyes betraying the true tension welling up inside of him. "I'm sure it was in there."

We continued to walk together, turning a corner, but all I could think about were the colors, how gorgeous they were, how Mum and I kept re-arranging them, and of course how Alice kept harassing me. She was always harassing me. What was it this time? Why did she harass me?

Wait…

Wait, wait…

It started coming back to me then, as my thoughts went to Alice and all the crap she spews out on a regular basis. There was something…that thing…it set her off and I can't believe I forgot it, with all the fuss she made…

James looked at me expectantly, anxiously, and then suddenly something just clicked.

The rose.

It was that damn bloody pinkish-red rose from hell.

That was it. That was the detail I couldn't remember. He'd given me a rose, pink for friendship and red for passion. Alice had said _this _was the symbol of something far beyond my understanding and damnit, she was right. She was _right_. What…? How…? Why…?

My eyes widened as the truth of it sank in, and I said in such a low voice _I _couldn't hear me, "So…the rose was on purpose?"

And solemnly, wordlessly, conclusively, James could only nod.

The weight of his words (or, rather, the words he meant), an anvil of colossal mass, plummeted from my throat down to my toes, crashing through all my necessary organs, ripping them to shreds and rendering me speechless. Heat rose in my cheeks like magma and my heartbeat raced off the charts, everything about me erratic to the millionth degree, and I could see that in James, the story was exactly the same.

We were feverish, afraid, and unsure of what this would do to us. We were confused. I longed to shake him, make him take that back, make him bring everything back to where it was five minutes ago, but I couldn't, he couldn't, and we were stuck where we were and I was more afraid than I can say.

"James…" His name was all I could muster, my voice so thin it defied the definition of a whisper. "You can't…we…"

"I knew you'd take this badly," he muttered, his red face going to his palm. I had never seen him this embarrassed before in my life. "Damnit, I'm an idiot. Forget I said anything. I'm sorry. Let's just…"

But I clutched his free hand and the ferocity of my touch was enough to bring his eyes up over his fingers – befuddled, emotionally constricted.

"It's okay," I said in a voice that wasn't my own, through a person that certainly wasn't me, because I was as not okay as not okay could get in this type of situation. "What do you need to tell me?"

His face came out of his hand and I realized just how rare this mood was. James takes great pains to be stable these days – he's the Head Boy and the Quidditch Captain for Gryffindor, as well as a seventh year getting his last priorities set before he leaves school forevermore. He _needs_ to stay together, or he'll fall apart and he won't want to get back up again.

I guess that was part of the reason why he shook his head and said, "No, forget it. I don't want to talk about it. It doesn't matter, anyway."

"No way," I said, slightly irritated. "Of course it matters. I want to know if you meant what you just implicated. What do you want to say?"

"Nothing," he said resolutely, his emotive eyes shutting down. "Leave it alone. Never mind."

"James Potter, if you don't tell me what you were going to say right this minute, I don't care how strong or tough you are," I informed him, my hands going to my hips. "I will straddle you and pin you down to this floor and make you tell me. Don't think I won't do it."

The moment so bizarrely humorous for a situation so momentous, my hollow threat elicited a real chuckle from that mouth of his and made me half-smile back at him.

"You've squeezed the truth out of me too many times to count this year," I said. "Now it's my turn. Tell me the truth. I deserve to know."

This did the trick. James could only sigh and run his hand through his hair (which was as good as admitting defeat) before he said, "Are you sure?"

Was I sure? Was I _sure_? Yes, of course I was bloody sure.

So I nodded and he nodded, taking one last quick breath before he started.

"I just…I don't even know what I'm doing anymore," he confessed, his eyes taking great pains to stay connected with mine. "You can't imagine what being with you does to me, Lils. We'll just…we'll talk, and you'll laugh, and something hurts and I want you to do it again, but I can't tell you so. Every hug, every joke, every cuddle…they take me over. So many times this year, I've tried to restrain this…this monstrous attraction I've got to you, telling myself that being your friend is enough, being your friend is all I can do…but I can't handle it anymore. You have to know…that I want to be more than this. I want to be with you."

Under his gaze, expectant and raw as it was, my throat was so dry I could've rendered cacti lifeless. And, strangely, I found myself wanting to cry, because he was tickling my very core and I couldn't say how I really felt about this. I was too confused, too far in shock, to be coherent. But I gave it a shot.

"This…changes everything," I told him, still quite dazed. "You do know that, don't you? After everything we've ever said, or done, or had…"

"And it's still always back to you," he finished for me, nodding painfully. "I know. And I understand that you've never…you know, fancied me that way…but there you go. I can't not be with you and still be expected to…I dunno, function, or be happy."

"I'm going to need time," I said gently. "I mean…you went and dumped a whole lot of _stuff _on my head tonight and…well…I need a say in this."

"You wanted me to dump it on you," he reminded me.

"Well, only after you teased me with that rose opener," I retorted. "Which you knew would work. So shut up."

"Message received," said James, making a commendable attempt at his signature smirk-and-eye-roll routine.

"But no, in all seriousness, I do want time to think," I said. "I don't want to…rush into anything. I don't want to screw this up again."

"Okay," he said gently.

We were silent a few more seconds, the boy-girl awkwardness somewhat dissolving and somewhat thickening, as we wondered what we were supposed to say after what had to be the biggest announcement of our young lives. My heart had still not yet reached its proper, standard, normal beat.

"So…I'm guessing we should probably end patrol early tonight," I suggested.

"Good idea," James said quickly. "Let's do that."

"Okay."

The two of us then sprinted together – wordlessly, of course – through the corridors to our dormitories. The school was not being overtaken by evil pixies or anything and we only had ten minutes to go of our patrol anyway. We were in the clear. We mumbled good-byes at my portrait hole and I fled inside, not sure what to make of the past few minutes, which had pretty much changed the course of my love life for the rest of eternity. What do you do after you know nothing is ever going to be the same again?

Of course, the minute I collapsed on my bed, I wrote in here; but now that I'm done and the whole excruciating tale has been noted down, I find myself oddly…empty.

It's weird, I know, that after my best friend tells me he fancies me, all I can feel is nothing. But I mean, when you go through something so huge, so traumatic, the scope of the whole thing just doesn't click right away. You don't get that it's really happened, that you're really a different person now. You just…you _know_, but you can't feel it.

It's like an earthquake or something – you can see the damage, but getting around to accepting it and fixing it is another issue.

You need time for that, time I've requested and James has kindly given me, and only after I can learn to live with this new reality can I comment on how I feel about it.

That being said, I think I'm now going to go to sleep. I've had a long night and I now have something to endlessly analyze/dissect for the next few weeks, as well as the new challenge of figuring out how to tell Alice and Livvy, who are shockingly out-of-the-loop on the whole affair (which, yes, I know, is my fault).

I will write again as soon as I can.

But for now…

Good night.

I think?

--

A/N: Blerghhh. I hate confession scenes. They are so bloody hard to write. These are the days when I wonder why the hell I put myself through the trauma of writing love stories. Am I even more insane than I thought I was?

Yeah, probably.

But my mental instability aside, go ahead and hit the review button on your way out. I'm a little anxious about what you think of this one.


	45. I Consider My Options

A/N: Okay, okay, taking forever again. Sorry about that. My life really hates me at the moment. But never fear, I'm still alive down here, so we're all good.

Some of you who reviewed were confused about why Lily couldn't tell James she loved him last chapter. It's because she didn't really expect him to love her back, because she's a thick, stressed-out teenager who really doesn't want a relationship at the moment. So she was taken by surprise and, considering their past history, wasn't sure what to say. But she'll respond. Eventually.

And you thought last chapter was the Big Scene? No way! The _next_ chapter is the Big Scene. We just needed an awkward-as-hell push-off point to get us there. Sorry if that confused you.

So the format of the next few chapters (including this one) is – cushion, plot, cushion, plot, plot, plot, somewhat-plottish. And not all of it will make you smile. So be ready.

I actually rather like this cushion, though, as it includes two cameo appearances by Sirius, so I hope you like it too and will review when you're done!

Cheers!

--

March 2

**Morning Status:**

It's not going so well. Since James and I last talked (eight days ago), sleep has been incessantly punctuated by dreams I don't quite understand and I can't get out of bed in the morning unless Alice and Livvy take drastic measures.

But, on the bright side, I did get up _this _morning. Granted, I didn't get time for breakfast, so I'm starving, but I'm still awake and functional. That has to count for something. Right? Right? Right.

**9:05 AM**  
_Status_: Drained

Wow. It feels like it's been a long time since I slacked off during Charms to write in this diary. Normally, I just write after patrol, because there's not much else to say. I lead a spectacularly boring life, when you really look at the facts.

Even now, my life is incredibly dull, despite the drama of my last James encounter last week. Busy, but dull. I've had homework across the board keeping me up to obscene hours, I walk around like I'm half-dead or something, and in return for all the breaks I've given James for Quidditch, I've been taking some time off of patrol to get some sleep, something I would never do under normal circumstances. That's how bad it's been.

Meanwhile, I sat Alice and Livvy down to talk one or two or three days ago to tell them what's been going on with the James situation. Typically, they went ballistic and Alice nearly had a heart attack – which, okay, I guess is expected, since she's been theorizing such a phenomenon for years and years now. I let her have her moment (or, rather, half an hour) to say I told you so, bounce around my room, scream at the top of her lungs (Livvy wasn't a fan of this bit) and generally piss me off, but then we had to get down to business.

The main matter on the agenda was really figuring out what I should say in response to James's confession. I wasn't kidding when I told him that this changed everything – because it did. And now I had to deal with the impact damage.

Alice, being Alice, told me I was being ridiculous. Once she calmed down enough to make a rational argument, she was of the opinion that this could be really good for me; this could be exactly what I need. She understood I was scared, but she said I had to get over that, because fear would only hold me down. She said I should stop being a coward and tell him that I love him back, because I _do_. I really, really do.

Livvy, being Livvy, agreed with Alice. She said that our relationship would be okay. She said I'm being a bit of a dolt, making him wait while I try to sort out something she doesn't feel needs sorting out; and while yes, she too understands how hefty this commitment is, she says I should get on with it.

To my friends, this genuinely is an easy decision. To them, it would take all of about three seconds to say, hey, I love you, let's go make love and get married in London next week. But for me…I dunno.

I'm not sure what it is, but whenever I try to talk about my James feelings with Alice or Livvy, I freeze up. I can't talk, the words won't come out, and I am forced to sit silent, miserable and misunderstood, as my friends preach to me like they get what's going on in my head better than I do.

But they don't.

I guess it's partially my fault for not confiding in them what I know I feel, but sometimes, I dunno, I feel like I can't relate to my friends the way we ought to. We are close on almost every subject, but when it comes to James Potter…there's something about him, and his relationship to me, that causes a rift between me and the two girls I adore.

They don't know how it is for me, when I see him and I feel like a stupid little girl, because my heart is beating too fast and I keep sneaking little looks at him, because I like how he uses his hands and smiles at me when he talks. They don't know how he makes me laugh, or how he makes me want to cry, or how I never really know what to do with him when he says those things he does – how passionately he makes me feel not once, but again and again.

They don't know how there are both pushes and pulls in me, wanting me to get close but not too close, because that's frightening. They don't know that while I care more for him than I ever thought I would, I feel wrong, like I'm breaking some cardinal rule or something by wanting to be with him.

And the fact of the matter is, I'm terrible with relationships. I'm not being modest or anything – I really am. I'm so busy all the time that I can barely make time for myself, let alone another person, and I could easily neglect them, or say something wrong and drive them away.

I'm also awful with commitment – one reason I swore off dating last year – and I don't think I could make such deep promises when my own life is so up-in-the-air that I don't seem to have a future past our graduation date.

I don't want to be with anyone. I can't. I don't believe in him, or myself, enough to put ourselves through something that would just end badly for both of us. My anxiety would kill our relationship, make us plod along so slowly that he would get bored, finally realize I'm not the sparkly girl he seems to think I am, and leave me.

It sounds irrational, I know, I know, but

**10:05 AM**  
_Status_: Still drained

(continued from last period)

It sounds irrational, I know, I know, but I'm terrified of what we could be. He's one of my best friends in the world and he makes it easy to be around him – so easy that I lose myself, start doing things I should never do just because they felt right in that one stupid moment that was supposed to be an anomaly, a blip in the radar. But it's not – there are many moments like it – and that's awful. It makes it seem as though we have a chance, when we don't actually know each other the way we should.

I wish I could make this as easy as my friends think it is, but the roads keep winding and twisting and I get lost in should be's, would be's, could be's. I don't want to lead him on. I don't want him to think we're close to something and then let him down.

But at the same time…I just don't know what I want to say.

Being with him makes me feel like I'm floating in the clouds, but I'm so much better off here on the ground, where I've always been, keeping my head down and getting through each day so I can move on to the next. I can't go up so high with him. It's dangerous.

But unless I know how to tell him this properly, coherently, without breaking his heart, I'm staying quiet, not saying anything at all; and I'd rather suspend him indefinitely than tell him something stupid, wrong, and have him hate me for words I can never say.

So we continue playing this waiting game and I hope beyond hope that I find a suitable ending to this muddled state of affairs. I'm on my own here – Alice and Livvy can't help me – and…I dunno.

And that's the thing. Despite everything, I just don't know.

**11:45 AM**  
_Status_: Giggly

Merlin's beard…I love my year. I really, really, really do. No matter how bad the day is, let the records show that I love all these people to pieces. In all seriousness.

See, today in Transfiguration, we got our latest essays back and there were many groans/shocked expressions around the room – our grades were pretty miserable. Even Livvy, who worked on that for hours, only got a very weak E. I found I managed to scrape together an A, but that was McGonagall having mercy on me. Alice chose not to disclose what grade she got, which means it wasn't her best assignment either.

In light of this failure to write coherently about principles we _should _be understanding (not my words there), McGonagall gave us a cross, full-period talk about how our writing has become quite abysmal lately.

"Now, I do understand that you are all under a lot of pressure, and you want nothing more than to get out of here—"

"Hear, hear!" punctuated Sirius enthusiastically, beaming. The class chuckled, but quietly, as McGonagall turned her stern eye on him. Luckily, though, she said nothing specific on the matter and continued on.

"But," she said, "you cannot possibly expect to pass with only half your mind on your work. You've still got a lot of hard work ahead of you, as well as for the rest of your lives, and slacking off at this point would not be to your benefit, just because you're off thinking about tonight's dinner. Laziness is a temptation that ought to be avoided at all costs."

We all exchanged looks with our friends. Erm…

"Because we seem to be forgetting these basic principles in light of some exhaustion, I've decided that we're going to put off today's lesson until tomorrow," McGonagall went on, "and talk about how to properly construct an analysis piece. A saddening number of you will need to keep this information in mind next time you are assigned an essay in this class, and likely in your other classes as well."

The reaction to her statement was mixed. On the one hand, we were delighted that we would have no class-work today, because that translated to no homework, either, which was like an answered prayer. On the other hand, though, essay writing was not the most exciting thing we could've done.

However, most of us decided to just accept this, take out some parchment for notes, and copy down McGonagall's instructions for a proper essay.

The lecture went fine for quite a while – most of the period – with McGonagall talking and giving us examples of bad writing, while we scribbled down her instructions and blushed a little when we heard something vaguely familiar from our teacher's mouth. The trouble started when we reached the conclusion of her address.

McGonagall was explaining how, when writing an explanatory essay like we usually do in her class, we ought to start off with the facts and work our way down to a conclusion at the end of the paper, working inductively rather than deductively.

"It helps both you and I see if you know how the information flows together to create the finishing hypothesis," she told us. "So make sure you lead up to your point and save your big, sweeping statements until the very end."

I noted this down. Reasonable enough, I thought. But I seemed to be wrong, because Sirius Black, of all people, raised his hand to make a comment.

This was extremely abnormal behavior. Sirius almost never talks during a lecture, because he either understands the concepts instinctively or he asks Remus later, or he is catching up on his sleep in the back corner. McGonagall was not the only surprised person in the room when she said, "Yes, Black?"

"I disagree with this method of essay-writing," Sirius declared, flat and blunt as ever. "I don't understand why you think we should use it."

McGonagall seemed taken aback. Very few students ever dared to contradict her – she is clever and frightfully intimidating – and this sudden interruption in the middle of the morning seemed to rattle her. But she regained composure quickly and responded in her usual crisp manner.

"Why do you disagree with the method, Mr. Black? What flaw do you see in it?" she inquired.

The class sat up a little straighter in their seats, rising out of their stupor in order to hear this intriguing break in the lesson.

"I merely disagree that it's the best way to go," he said easily, even smoother now that he had an audience. "I mean, introducing the conclusion beforehand and then going through the details and procedure is just as good. It proves that you understand the principle enough to defend where it comes from. It displays just as much understanding of the material, you know what I mean?"

We looked from Sirius to McGonagall. The element of surprise had worn off on her by now and she was perfectly unruffled as she responded, "Well, Black, allow me to say that I have had much more experience grading student essays than you have and from what I have seen, this method yields the best results."

"Maybe, but that doesn't prove your point," said Sirius. "I mean, people who write their essays differently still do all right, don't they? It ought to be a matter of opinion, how you write your essays. If you don't like our essays, we should be going over the quality of what's _in_ the format rather than how it looks – because you can use your way and still produce rubbish."

"The ideas are better formed and expressed with the method I'm teaching you now," said McGonagall coolly. "By all means, write however you wish, Mr. Black. But for those who can't do it effectively, I am providing a solution."

"Giving them an outline won't help them in the least," Sirius shot back. "They don't know what they're writing. You need to explain how you get to the point, rather than what you do with it from there. The style is not the problem. What you put into the style is what we need to be concerned with."

Sirius really was quite relentless and the argument was just getting good. There was not a single person in the room otherwise occupied and James looked rather impressed from by his side.

"I beg you trust my opinion enough to allow me to share it with the class," said McGonagall in a tone that definitely implicated that this discussion was over. "If you have any further concerns, you may see me after class."

With this, the bell rang, and we were dismissed. McGonagall, as we expected, did not assign homework and gave Sirius a curious little nod as he exited the room. The class broke out into feverish discussion, debating the merit of Sirius's statement, and we walked out in pairs discussing nothing else. Livvy, Alice and I were no different.

"That was incredible," Alice said admiringly. "That boy has guts. I would've pissed my pants by the end there."

"He was right, too," said Livvy thoughtfully. "I mean, my style was fine. McGonagall's chief comments were about _what _I said rather than how I said it."

"I was just intrigued that he said anything at all," I pointed out. "Sirius doesn't like talking in class, unless it involves arguing or proving how clever he is. Which, I mean, we already know."

"I hope McGonagall addresses his point tomorrow," said Livvy. "I want to pull up my essay score."

"Do you have any idea what Sirius got?" I asked.

"No," said Alice, "but I'll find out. Frank sits nearby and usually hears these things."

And she sped off to find Frank. She will let me know at lunch what Sirius got. Judging by how vehemently he defended other styles, he must have gotten as low a score as Alice. I mean, he clearly felt strongly about it – and Sirius is one of those kids who effortlessly does well on everything and can't understand why he missed the few points that he did.

At this point, I conjecture a P at best. I know I'd be desperate enough to argue with McGonagall if _I _got a P…

**12:13 PM**  
_Status_: Outraged

Frank has spoken. Apparently, Sirius turned out to be the only one in the entire year who got an O on that essay!

The nerve of some people. Livvy's proclamation of needing to stab him with something sharp doesn't sound half bad right about now.

**7:00 PM**  
_Status_: Overwhelmed

I should be at dinner right now, but after the events of this evening, I don't feel like eating and sleeping are going to be enough to soothe me – which is saying something, because I'm not one to turn down a meal, particularly one here at Hogwarts. But there we have it, that's the truth. I am in the empty common room, curled up in the comfortable chair by the fire, and writing instead of eating to my heart's (and stomach's) content.

It all started a couple of hours ago, when I was doing homework, and Alice had decided to take a night off. She left me and Livvy at our table and skipped off to lazily play with Frank and his Zonko's toys, while we remained behind to work.

This wasn't exactly uncommon – Alice is not known for her ability to focus on one thing for more than an hour – but while we were at it, I noticed that Livvy was acting a little off.

She was strangely dreamy, jittery, jumping every time I asked her an off-hand question about something. She kept taking two or three minutes out of her time to stare anxiously out into space and bite her lip. And the tell-tale sign something was up – she began to chew on her hair.

Chewing on her hair is one of those really gross habits Livvy has that Alice and I can't coach her out of. Whenever she is nervous, or has something major on her mind, a lock of her hair can be found in her mouth and we know it's time to ask what's up.

And tonight…Livvy was chewing on her hair. So I asked what's up.

"Hey, Livs, you okay?" I asked.

She jumped. She had been staring out into space again.

"What, wait?"

"You okay?" I asked once more.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," she said, spitting out her hair, nodding, and resuming her work. "Why?"

"You're doing that thing of yours again," I said, gesturing to it.

Livvy sighed. "Yeah…I guess I am," she owned.

"Just a little," I said with a slight smile. "So tell me. What's going on?"

Livvy was uncomfortable for a second or two. She seemed to debate whether telling me was a good or a bad thing, her hair resolutely between her teeth all the while. It seemed like hard work. I waited patiently, though, as she swallowed and made up her mind.

"Can I trust you with something extremely personal?" she asked me. "Like…the biggest secret I have?"

Slightly alarmed, I said, "Yes, of course. Did something happen?"

Livvy was edgy with emotion. "Yes," she confirmed.

"Something bad?" I was aghast. How could she wait to tell me something like that? I mean, was she dying? Was someone we knew dying? Was anyone hurt?

"No, no, nothing bad," said Livvy. "In fact, it's quite the opposite."

Oh. Well, maybe that was why. I shook my thoughts out of my head and requested, "So can you tell me? It's obviously important."

Livvy nodded, giddy with excitement. "Yes," she said. "Lils…Russell and I had sex for the first time last night."

I was utterly taken aback. I was pretty much in shock. I had to ask her to repeat that for me, one more time, and she was so delighted that I knew she had been hoping to surprise me.

"Russell and I did it," she said with a note of pride. "Yesterday."

There was an immense weight to this confession that I wasn't prepared for – all the layers of excitement, confusion, exhilaration, manic fear. Livvy has been a virgin up until now – very picky with her heart and who she trusts it with – and the idea that she gave herself to Russell that way is definitely one with layers.

It displays the ultimate trust, the ultimate surrender to the other person, and Livvy bursting to tell me about it was more than I expected.

"Merlin…wow," I said honestly. "Erm…congrats, Livvy."

Livvy bit her lip, wild happiness in her usually-cautious eyes, and said, "You can't imagine how I'm feeling, Lils. It's so…_good_. I love Russell with every fiber of my being and I just…he loves me back! He wants to be with me too! I've never been with anyone like him – he feels permanent to me – and I'm happier than I've ever been. I wanted to tell you because…I dunno, you always give so much in your relationships, and I thought you'd understand."

Although her reference to my giving a lot to my relationships perplexed me – these days, I am worse than the most cautious old lady when it comes to who I'm with and James could confirm that – but I chose to ignore it.

"I do get it," I said, "but Livs, do be careful. Don't go giving him more than he wants because you'll be the one getting hurt then, not the other way around. I'm glad you love him, but love requires prudence and unless you're careful, things can go horribly wrong."

"I know that," said Livvy earnestly. "I am being prudent. And he started it, not me."

"Regardless," I said, chewing ponderously on my lip. "Things can still go wrong, even if you do have the best of intentions…"

Livvy impatiently assured me that she knew this, she would be careful, but I was sure she wouldn't be, as she closed her books and said she wanted to go see Russell. Livvy is the girl who either gives way too much or way too little, and either way she always ends up with the shorter straw.

I do worry for her. She's my best friend – I know her well – so I know trusting people is not her forte. She's kind of like me in that sense. If she trusts you, she'll trust you with everything, including what she does with her boyfriend at night. But if she doesn't…you won't know a thing about her. There's no middle ground with her. She's fickle and stubborn and compulsive about everything and I applaud Russell for being the first to love her in entirety. I guess third time is the charm for Livvy.

I finished up my homework and mused upon this idea of trust for quite some time, sitting in my chair and watching the flames dance, my thoughts swirling thick and heavy in my head, none of it making any sense. Sighing and frustrated, I decided to give myself a bit of a walk and went to my dormitory for my sweater. When I was there, I had some vicious mewing and clawing going on behind James's door and was scared for a moment, before I realized that it was only Napoleon wanting to be free.

Sirius and James were nowhere to be found – and James had Quidditch practice tonight – so I figured, what the hell. I said James's password to the portrait ("scented soap") and opened the door to reveal the small black cat, his ferociously green eyes catching mine as he appraised the sight of me.

"Hey, Napoleon," I said, holding my arms out to him. "Want to come with me to the common room?"

There really wasn't anyone in there at the time, and whoever was certainly wouldn't look twice if I walked in carrying a furry, black little bundle (Gryffindors can be notoriously self-absorbed), so I figured there wasn't really any harm in giving sweet little Napoleon a change of scenery. And Napoleon seemed to like the idea as well, because he purred and sweetly rubbed his face against my leg, mewing softly when I picked him up.

I was utterly pleased – maybe I am horrible with communicating with humans, but at least I can somewhat get along with cats.

Cradling Napoleon in my arms like a baby, I took him with me to my seat in the common room, which was the same as it was when I left it. Sighing heavily for the second time tonight, I curled up in my seat, the cat a warm weight on my lap, and I rubbed his head in between his ears as I continued to watch the flames, theories of trust revolving erratically through the giant mess that was my conscious thought.

"I just don't get it," I said helplessly to Napoleon. "Why do you trust some people so wholly, and so completely, but you can't seem to tell others anything? What about someone makes you want to give yourself up to them in every way, even though you know what could happen if you do? Why does it happen once for people like Livvy, and all the time, like Alice? Who decides these things?"

Napoleon mewed thoughtfully, but I think he was just reacting to my ear-rub. He seemed to like that. But still, his input helped considerably.

"Trusting is…ridiculous," I proclaimed to him. "So is loving. It just…it leads to hurt. Nothing but hurt. You learn to expect things from people, and eventually, they stop delivering and you're left confused, wondering why you're still here expecting something when they've obviously finished with you. You wonder what you did wrong, how much was his fault and how much was yours, and you find yourself going around in circles, because nothing ever seems to make sense. It's not fair – to you or to them."

Napoleon purred and gave my hand an affectionate, understanding lick. I pursed my lips and tried to hold back a rush of anguish developing somewhere in my chest cavity.

"Relationships don't end well," I said. "They're fun for a while, and you feel like you're on top of the world, but the trust thing always comes up and ruins everything, even with your best intentions. I've been through too much of that. Now, those guys are strangers to me because too much was left unsaid and we wanted to forget each other, even though we couldn't. I don't want to commit to James and turn him into a stranger too, because I feel differently for him than I've felt for my previous boyfriends and I couldn't bear not being with him. He's one of my best friends, you know what I mean?"

Napoleon seemed to bob his head in agreement, stretching his neck up so I could give him a rub there too. I obliged.

"I mean, it's just so wrong on so many different levels," I went on. "I'm…I don't even know what. He has this idea of me, as this perfect girl he's loved forever and has continued to love, because she's funny and quirky and makes him happy. He called it a 'monstrous attraction.' But he doesn't know that I'm not always that girl. I…I hurt. I slack. I neglect. I rage. I can never say what needs to be said when it matters and commitment scares me."

Napoleon mewed helpfully, rubbing his soft head against my chest.

"I don't want to screw this up," I said. "I know I will, so for our own good, I'm going to tell him I can't be involved with him. I'm not the girl for him. I'm sure there's someone else he fancies – like that Jane Carlton he danced with at the Halloween party. I can be his best female friend, fine, but any more than that and I draw the line. I'm doing this for him. He deserves better."

Napoleon mewed again, this time stronger, and I actually felt kind of empowered. Smiling at him, I lifted him up and blew into his soft belly, making him hiss in a giggly way, almost like a child.

"Thanks, Napoleon," I said, stroking his back. "I know you probably can't understand me, and that you probably wouldn't even be here unless I was giving you rubs, but you listen quietly without judging me. Sometimes…sometimes I need that."

I planted a kiss between his ears and gathered him up, rising to my feet.

"C'mon, then," I said. "Let's get you back up to James's dorm before you're missed."

My heart still heavy, I turned to make my way out of the portrait hole when all of a sudden, I became acutely aware that Sirius Black – i.e. James Potter the Second – was standing there, just by my chair, with his handsome face wiped carefully clear of all emotions. My heart nearly leaped out of my chest and if I hadn't had Napoleon so securely in my hands, I would've dropped him.

"Merlin's beard, don't ever scare me like that again, I just about died," I said, blinking a couple of times and trying to catch my breath. "And hasn't someone told you that eavesdropping is rude?"

Sirius took a breath and seemed to ignore everything I'd just said. He looked kind of sad. Then it finally – belatedly – clicked.

"How long have you been eavesdropping?" I asked, my still-rapid heart suddenly going cold.

"Long enough," he said. "Hasn't someone told _you _that spilling your deepest thoughts to a cat in the midst of a public common room is a bad idea?"

I blushed deeply. "I didn't think anyone was listening," I mumbled.

"Well, I was going to say hello and ask what you were doing there, but you were already talking, so I lingered to hear what you were saying," Sirius confessed. "And…well…"

"You're not going to repeat my friends' sermons and tell me I'm absolutely ridiculous, are you?" The last thing I needed was Sirius Black telling me what to do about my love life.

Thankfully, though, he shook his head.

"I don't know what your friends said, and you know, I really don't care, because it's obviously not doing you any good," he said frankly. "Now, normally, I wouldn't do this, but as it involves my best friend and I still owe you for taking me in on Halloween—"

"That wasn't really any trouble—" I began, but Sirius cut me off with an impatient wave of his hand.

"—I'm going to give you some advice," he finished. "Just…friend to friend. You and me. Okay?"

Deflated and nervous, my stomach twisting up in funny shapes I hope it never, ever repeats, I nodded.

"Right then." Sirius took another breath, staring briefly at the ceiling before turning his expressive dark eyes directly on mine.

"Now, I'm no good with talking about your feelings – that's a job we usually leave to Remus – but I just want to tell you this," he said. "That kid adores you. I'm obviously in the loop on your little soap opera here and I have to say, you're taking a ridiculous line on all this."

"You don't understand—" I attempted to interrupt, but Sirius waved his hand impatiently again and I quieted. He's quite good at that.

"I know it's tough," he said. "You guys have a weird situation and I don't envy that – it's bloody impossible. But I need to establish clearly, here and now, that my best friend in the world is head over heels for you and it doesn't take an eavesdropper to know you care about him too. And maybe you're going to be a difficult girlfriend, but James obviously doesn't care, so neither should you. Yeah, it's hard to trust someone, and yeah, you've had a weird history; but if you knew anything at all, you'd suck it up and give this a proper go like an adult, because you want to and he wants to and honestly, I'm not quite sure why nothing's happened yet."

He could see that I was sufficiently speechless, so he left off with a satisfied pat on my shoulder and, "Think about it for a little while. But for now, let me have Napoleon back. It's time for dinner and I need to feed us both. See you later, Lily."

Thunderstruck, I gave Napoleon back to Sirius, nervously thanked him, and fled back to my dormitory faster than I've ever done so in my life, my breathing heavy and labored for a lot of the time I scribbled all this down.

Now, after all I've tried to decide upon and stick with, a few words from Sirius Black have been enough to knock me off-balance and send me straight back to the start. He took me by storm today, making everything so much harder, realer than it has been for me this past week, with my memories crashing and colliding and driving me mad. There are real people involved that could get hurt, based on the decision I make. It's nerve-wracking. I really didn't know what to say when he finished with me and I don't know whether or not he did me a favor, although I have an inkling that he did.

But the fact of the matter is, without a doubt, that I have no idea what the hell I'm doing here. So…I guess the only thing left to do is stop dwelling and learn by trial and error, rather than theorizing what has not yet been tried. Even if it's scary and even if I have very reasonable doubts that ought to be addressed.

Will remark on this hefty topic llater, though. Right now, my brain hurts and I need a good night's sleep, copious amounts of alcohol, and perhaps some time as an exchange student across the world. Not sure if I'll get the last two, but the first is definitely feasible and I'm going to chase it.

Until the dreaded Later, then.

--

A/N: If you're frustrated, it's okay. I told you there's plot coming up next chapter, and that it was altogether a chapter you might enjoy. You will probably have to wait a bit for it to be posted, but if things go right, it hopefully will be worth the wait.

I know, heroines can be tiresome. But if I'm honest, I'd put up even more resistance than this myself. I'm too cautious for my own good. You probably wouldn't like me very much if this chapter bugged you – which, I mean, is fine, but I'm just saying.

Please remember to review and hopefully I shall be back within a week with a resolution for this impasse!

Cheers!


	46. I Make a Decision

A/N: I really wish I could update faster for you guys, but unfortunately, my life pretty much sucks at present. For now, I've settled into a week-long pace for each chapter – writing it little by little during the week and finishing it up on Friday and/or Saturday – and that's not likely to change. So…I'm sorry. Unless my teachers decide to have mercy on me some nights, I'm booked up.

Great mood music = _Who Am I to Say_, by Hope and _Who'd Have Known_, by Lily Allen.

Otherwise…I just hope this works. I hate confession scenes. I will be such a happy girl when we get on to the more interesting sections of the story – which, trust me, shall come abound when we get going. One thing leads to another, which leads to another, which leads to another…it'll be fun. We just need to get this out of the way before we move on.

Epic thanks to my girl _Niki _for reading this through for me before posting. You're the biggest epic winner the world has ever known.

Sorry again for the delay. Cheers, and I hope this worked.

--

March 4

**11:00 PM  
**_Status_: Dazed

My head is bursting. My heart is racing. My stomach is twisting, twisting, twisting, and I don't know if it'll ever regain its normal shape. I feel sick and scared and excited and horrified and wrong, but so _good_, that the intensity of it all is enough to keep me violently ill for days and days. It's like I'm pushing the very limits of being human. I can't even begin to describe how jittery and nervous I am – although you can kind of infer it, since my handwriting is so shaky on the page.

But, the reason for this phenomenon takes a little explaining, so here I go.

See, for the past few days – well, ever since James first told me that he fancied me, which this diary says was February twenty-third – our patrols have generally been quite mute, disconnected. We didn't make jokes or laugh or talk about how our day went. For the first few days afterward, we patrolled on separate floors, but we quickly gave that up and came back together.

Not that it was an improvement or anything, though – we still didn't really talk at all, unless it was to say good evening, good night, how are you, fine, thank you, all the stupid, empty things that I hoped we'd never reduce ourselves to.

I truly despised the purposelessness, the silence, because we were so, so much better than that; but when faced between the choices of conversing honestly or keeping my mouth shut, I couldn't help choosing the latter and saying nothing at all.

No, I'm not proud of it; but when confronted with two great evils, I chose the more convenient one and went with it. Besides, conversation can be initiated by either of the two parties involved, and my other party clearly didn't want to talk to me either.

So I went into patrol today with the same low expectations in mind – another pointless, meandering night without any of the laughter I've cherished all year – and I took my usual place at James's side without saying more than, "Good evening."

He replied, "Good evening," as well and fell quiet. I avoided his eyes and watched the wall to my right with uncommon interest, as the portraits were livelier than James and I were tonight. There was considerable physical distance between us, even, to match our emotional distance and it made me sadder than I could say. So I didn't say it. It would've made things awkward.

But I wouldn't have written about tonight in particular unless there was something particular to write about, something different – and there was.

About halfway through the patrol, while I was lost in my mental checklist of crap I still had to take care of, James softly initiated our first real conversation in (quite literally) weeks.

"So…I was wondering, how long are we going to continue playing the silent game?" he asked, trying (and failing) to sound off-hand.

The sound of his voice – not very familiar to my ear at present – startled me at its first appearance. I was half in-tune with him and half in my own world, but I still caught the gist of what he said and it made my stomach knot in that uncomfortable way he's famous for in my world.

I swallowed thickly and forced myself, with every ounce of bravery in me, to glance at him and say, "I'm sorry?"

"I said, I was wondering how long we're going to be playing the silent game," he answered, the resentment slightly more pronounced on this second listening. "How long we're going to keep not talking. I just wanted to write it in my calendar so I know when I'm allowed to talk to you again."

"I'm right here," I said weakly, my face going warm.

"No, you're not," he said, his tone frank and gaining momentum like it gets when he's being serious. "Lils, you could be at the South Pole and I still wouldn't be able to tell the difference. Wait, no. Actually, it would be easier if you were at the South Pole, because then I wouldn't be standing here, like a bloody fool, hoping something will happen when quite obviously, you don't want anything to change."

Ouch. The bitterness hurt, cutting into my insides and making them ooze something I'm sure has never been named in a medical textbook. But I knew I deserved them, no matter how they make me feel, and I sighed, my lips pursed and my eyes on the floor. I felt like I was made of half-hardened, half-liquid stone.

"So what do you want me to say?" I asked. "What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know, anything!" he burst out, the frustration alive in his voice, rushing out in a spit-fire stream now that a small opening had been located. "That's the problem, Lils – you _don't _say or do anything, and you expect me to stay hanging here, waiting for you, when you don't have a clue what the hell you're doing either!"

"You don't get it—"

"No, I don't," he cut me off. "Look, I don't know the specifics of your position on this, but I know that personally, I'm not into bullshitting around and I'm getting tired of where we are. You told me you needed time, so I gave it to you. But Merlin, Lily, how much do you want from me?"

I squeezed my eyes shut and plunged my teeth into my lip to keep myself held in, passably stable.

"I…I don't know," I admitted.

He released a groan of irritation and I bit down harder, the pressure building in my lip and behind my eyes, as I willed this to please go away, let me be, I'm not ready yet. But it wasn't going away, and neither was James. We still had fifteen minutes left to patrol and therefore be together.

"Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to tell you how I felt that night?" he demanded. "Do you have any idea how long I'd wanted to say that, how often I planned it all out in my head before just going at it however I could? None of this is easy – not for either of us – but I gave it a shot because I'm not as good as you are at ignoring what's right in front of my face."

"I'm not ignoring you," I muttered babyishly, averting my face from his. The pressure behind my eyes was building and I didn't want it to explode by the sight of him. I just didn't.

"Have you even looked at me properly since I last talked to you?" he asked me.

"Yes," I lied.

He picked up on the slant. "No, you haven't."

"Yes, I have." The thought process at the time was, maybe if I said it with enough conviction, he'd believe me and not make me look. It was getting harder and harder to hold that pressure back with the spotlight of his attention so heavily upon me.f But obviously, I had no such luck.

"C'mon, look at me," said James. "I don't want to look at your hair or the side of your head. I want to look at your face. At _you_."

"No." My voice started to break and I know he heard it. I _know _he did. He stopped the plodding of my feet right there in the middle of the corridor and turned my body towards himself. I was powerless to stop him, so I buried my face in my hands, like I could immerse myself in there and never let him get me.

But he's James Potter, for goodness sake. He wasn't going to give up this conversation just because I wanted to play peek-a-boo.

Gently, but firmly, he coaxed my hands away from my head, holding them securely in his own and promptly letting them fall at my sides, his intensely hazel eyes drinking in the sight of me. I felt so exposed, so vulnerable, with my hands limp at my thigh, unable to protect me while he laser-eyed me.

And this, this final thought, finally broke the tension in my body and the pressure behind my eyes won. I felt water damming up against my sleep-deprived eyelids and James was astonished by the sight of them.

"Lily…are you _crying_?" he asked in disbelief.

"No," I said in a voice I had hoped would come out much stronger. And, promptly, a little tear made its brave escape across my cheek to finish proving my weakness. James's expression immediately softened.

"Aww, Lils, no, I wasn't trying to make you cry," he said tenderly, wiping the residue of the tear away with his thumb, his skin lukewarm against mine.

My stomach fluttered with something too fleeting and confusing to be named. Still, though, I gave one of my most unattractive sniffs to clear my nose (it sounds like I'm snorting something) and he tried to hug me, but I shook my head and hastily wiped my eyes, refusing to be so pathetic in a situation where I was required to be anything, everything, else.

He was (understandably) confused by my refusal for comfort, but I didn't let him remark on the matter. I decided to screw it all and speak with my words – something I don't always do when I'm under strain.

"James…honestly, I don't know what this is to you, but for me, this is…this whole situation is so bloody out of control," I told him, slightly manic and more than a little desperate. "I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say. You've…you've changed _everything_ for me, you know that?"

"Lils," he began, warmly so I knew he felt strongly on the point, but I surprised us both by silencing him with my index finger, placing it on his lips and rendering him silent.

"Last week, or whenever it was, you told me how you felt," I said quietly. "Now I want my say. This isn't just _your_ story. It's _ours _and I want the record straight on how _I _feel before you say, or do, or ask anything else of me. I listened to you, so you listen to me. Okay?"

He seemed like he wanted to argue, make another point or finish up his own account before letting me move on to mine, but he subsided and the moment passed and he simply said, "Okay."

And his eyes – fathomless and hazel as they were – were back on me and I knew we were in business.

I took a shaky, preparing breath before I began thinking aloud.

"Look…I…I'm not good at being a girlfriend," I told him. "I'm…I dunno. I'm wary of commitment. I'm too stressed out right now. I'm not ready. This is something serious, something I can't take with a pinch of salt, and I…I can't do this. Everything about you…you're so passionate, but so easy-going, and hilarious, and lovely…but that's _now_. I can't forget what happened before now…how we were and how we acted…and I'm just, I'm not ready for you. That's the main fact of the matter here. I can't give you any more than I already have. I'm confused and nervous. I just _can't_."

I was pretty much about as eloquent as a five-year-old on drugs, and I stuttered through the whole miserable "confession" with all the subtlety of a concussed troll, but James was patient. He let me finish to the end, even when his eyes flashed and his knuckles tightened and I could tell he wanted to say something.

He made sure I was all the way done, exhausted by my own honesty, when he responded again (which I did appreciate). And this time, he was a lot less edgy and a lot calmer, a lot more willing to have this painful conversation.

"Lily," he said, saying my name with incredible gentleness, as though saying it any louder would topple over the natural order of the world. "Lily…I understand that you're scared."

"Everyone seems to understand that I'm scared," I couldn't help but retort. "But every time I hear that phrase, it is accompanied by an admonishment for letting that fear drive my decisions. Don't tell me you're going to do it to me too."

He smiled faintly. "Well…kind of," he said after a moment's thought. "But hear me out, because…well…I'm scared too. Moderately terrified, actually."

"You very well ought to be," I said. "You…you're asking me for a relationship with you. You're asking me to…to go out with you, and kiss you, and let you hold me. You're asking me to trust you in every way. There has to be something scary about that."

"There is," he said, softer even than me. "I mean, I'm as aware as you are that what we've been in the past is certainly not the greatest recommendation for a relationship. But…I dunno, there has to be a time when you let that go, you know? Where you just say, what's done is done, and we can move on now. We can make something else out of the previous mess."

"You're my best friend," I said, unable to stop my hand from timidly reaching out to his too-long hair, tucking it more securely behind his ear, the backs of my fingers briefly skimming past the skin of his jaw before falling back to my side. "That was scary enough. But now…"

He swallowed, something raw and true emerging in his strong features, as though something in my touch had catalyzed electric charge behind his face. "But now…what?" he asked, tissue-soft. "Where do you want to go from here?"

I pursed my lips, lost yet again for words. "I…don't know," I said. "I suppose we have a decision to make."

"Well…for me, the decision was made a long time ago," said James, so frank that I almost wanted to ask him to please lie to me and tell me something easier to digest. "I've tried, Lily, but I don't want to be with anyone else. My thirteen-year-old self was on to something. You're…the only one that makes sense. You're the only one I could ever see – realistically – in my life five years from now."

My heart quietly smoldering away in my chest, beating rapidly but simmering all the same, I tilted my head slightly, observing him at a different angle, the same thin face and expressive eyes, and somehow I cracked a bit of a grin.

"You know…you've changed a lot this year," I mused. "You're so…sentimental. I could never see you saying such sensitive, emotional things even a year ago."

To his credit, James laughed, the sound loose and lovely and real, despite the seriousness of our present situation.

"You remind me so much of Sirius sometimes," he said affectionately. "He's been saying the same thing lately. He thinks I'm losing my touch, because I'm mad about this girl and I can't stop thinking about her, something I've never really done before. But you know…"

Some of the appropriate seriousness crept back into his appearance and tone as he went on, "You know, you've changed a lot since last year, too, Lily."

Somehow, this took me by surprise.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "I mean…you're growing up, aren't you, like the rest of us? It's inevitable. But I dunno what exactly it is. I suppose you're…quieter now. You're not prone to random outbursts of anger, or irrational prejudice, or that haughty air of yours that you sometimes got when you'd done something better than everyone else and knew it. You're more…malleable. You won't stick to your childish convictions all the time. You're willing to give your values some wiggle room, maybe a secret escape route under the sofa if necessary. And that's a good thing."

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. "You mean that?" I asked.

Looking back, I say to myself, _duh _he mean that, because he chose to say it at that particular moment in time; in the actual moment, however, for reasons I shall likely never know, I just wanted to hear him say it again, confirm for me that I was…good enough for him. A girl just needs a little confirmation once in a while.

At my words and the look on my face, though, James's smile was pleasingly sweet as he said, "Yes, of course I do. You've changed, I've changed. It's inevitable. You know?"

"I do," I acknowledged.

He paused, hesitating a moment, then said kind of determinedly, "So…that's most of the reason why I'm going to ask you to go out with me on Saturday, to Hogsmeade. Because I think we've changed – both of us – and when two people change, their lives have to change with them. And all I've ever really wanted is a shot to mean something to you."

Uncertainty welled up like a poisonous bubble in my chest cavity.

"James…I dunno…" I bit my lip, the sighing nervousness back in my tone. "Dating you is still…an obstacle for me."

"You have doubts," said James in an in-business sort of way. "I know that. I already told you I understand that. But, well, it's not like I know what's coming ahead any more than you do. For all we know, we could suck together."

Upon seeing the expression on my face, though, he grinned apologetically and amended, "But I don't think that's going to happen. Because I mean, we hang out almost every night and I see you about as often as I see my best friends. We work, Lils, and I dunno, I can't even explain properly how I feel when I'm around you. It's too…amazing. Like I said before, I can't ignore how I feel. I need to act on it before it totally drives me bonkers."

"No, you actually said you couldn't ignore what was right in front of your face," I corrected him.

"Well, yeah, but they're pretty much the same thing in this context," he dismissed. "The fact of the matter is, I care about you, and I want to give this a good, honest go. We've got chemistry, Lily, and a hell of a lot of it, even if we sometimes make each other a little crazy. Here and now, I don't care who we were. I'm more interested in who we're going to be."

At this point, James's brain seemed to find some special, well-hidden switch somewhere in his gray matter labeled '_Use here only if you want to make your eyes dazzlingly enigmatic and honest and gorgeous in order to seduce a certain Lily Evans into doing what you want_.' I know this because his eyes did in fact become so dazzlingly enigmatic, honest, and gorgeous that my stomach shrunk up to the size of a jelly bean and started doing flips around my abdomen at the sight of him.

"So, what'll it be, Lils? Will you go out with me, or not?" he asked.

Yes, there it was, that final moment of truth, the ultimate arrival point after months – and years – of tension and build-up. It was now or never, fight or flight. I had a choice between two very simple words with very complex implications, laid out nice and easy in front of me after letting me think about it for nearly two weeks.

So I looked at James, long and hard, at not only his eyes, but his mouth and his ears and the bulge of his Adam's apple (his is peculiarly tiny – it's actually kind of cute) and how his glasses sat on his long, thin nose.

I thought about the times he did things for me, when I wanted him to touch me and I was too awkward to tell him so, when he laughed at something I said and made me flutter with pleasure.

I thought about everything Alice and Livvy have ever said to me, all the speculation we'd done and how they reacted at every milestone and how Alice had always known, in her obtusely all-seeing ways, that something would resolve positively between us.

I made sure I was looking him in the eye when I pursued my lips and then, with the one word, I made our decision for us. It was _my_ turn to change everything, so for once, I did.

I looked him in the eyes and said one word: "Yes."

The effect of this response was instantaneous on us both. Neither of us seemed able to realize that I'd actually said yes, after so much time and so much talking and so much freaking out and so much goodness-knows-what-else. We simply stared at each other for a few seconds, shocked and in disbelief, before James cleared his throat, pulled himself together, and I coughed a little too loudly.

"Right. _Right_," he said as firmly as he could, although he still sounded dazed, like I had after I was hit with that Bludger back in the fall. "Okay. Wow. Date, Saturday."

"Yeah," I said, grinning slightly. "On Saturday. Me and you. Hogsmeade."

James's hand went straight to his hair and he colored such a brilliant red that I wanted to cuddle him on the spot. I'd never seen him so flustered before.

"Right…right…this Saturday," he confirmed.

"Yes," I said, unable to hold back my smile. "We…could do lunch."

"I like lunch," he offered.

"So do I," I said. "You could…meet me in the Entrance Hall at noon, and we could go together, and eat lunch, and walk around the village. Does that sound…okay?"

He stared at me in shock for another few seconds, as though he still really couldn't believe he wasn't dreaming, and I giggled in my jumpy way. I really couldn't help it.

"I think it's okay," I said, biting my lip for the second time this evening, my robes mysteriously becoming a little too tight and a little too hot. "So…Saturday, noon, Entrance Hall?"

"Yeah," he managed. "Yeah, we can do that."

"Cool."

My nerves made me go as red as he was, the heat like fire under my skin, and I clacked my tongue, rocking back and forth on my heels, nervously smoothing clumps of my hair with my fingers. James wasn't any better, rumpling his hair constantly and looking at the floor as though it had personally informed him he'd won the lottery. We pretty much looked like fools.

"Let's go upstairs," he finally suggested.

"Yes," I said. "Good idea."

So we walked upstairs together, not really saying a word, and we separated without saying good-night – it was the first time we'd ever done that. But we really had nothing else to say – all our words had suddenly evaporated upon my uttering a single, three-letter word and anything else would have been awkward, extraneous. We kind of already knew we hoped the other had a good night.

And that brings me back to my dormitory, where, my heart pounding with the intensity of what I'd just done, I instantly began to record the events of the evening. Honestly, even though I've written out the whole tale, I can still barely believe it occurred – like the last time, the fact that I now have a date, _a date, _with James Potter hasn't quite sunk in yet.

Only this time, it wasn't an earthquake recovery. It was a full-on tsunami recovery, where everything was wiped clean by a gigantic wave of water and, using the little bits and pieces of the past leftover, you tried to rebuild your life with new materials, your mind looking forward instead of looking back.

The past is important, but the future is more pressing, as we shall be spending the rest of our lives in it. All year, I've lived in the past, unsure of every move because it contradicted with what I knew; but tonight, this one night, I finally broke free of that cycle and took one step forward. It's not a leap or anything huge, but it's a step and I know there's no going back.

I've made my decision. I've got a date on Saturday with James Potter. For better or worse, even with all my quirks, insecurities, worries, issues, dilemmas, and whatever else, I am at the starting line for one of the most frightening relationships I have ever even considered in my lifetime. And not only do I have to run the race, but I have to tell my friends about it – _that's _going to be fun when I break it to them tomorrow.

But, really, for the time being, there's nothing more left to say on the matter except this: let the fireworks begin.

--

A/N: If you don't review…I'll be really sad. So please do that, even if you hated it? (Although, if you did hate it, please don't say it quite like that.)


	47. I Spend Some Time Recovering

A/N: Woo! Thanks for all your epic responses to last chapter. You can't imagine how frustrated/finicky I was when I finished writing and posted. You make my day. You really, really, really do.

This chapter is, of course, a little filler-ish because I refuse to give you too much plot at once, if I can help it and it makes sense. But this is the chapter where Lily fills Alice and Livvy in on the whole ordeal, so it's not _complete _filler, because you do actually need to know that.

Anyway, without further ado, here you go. I hope you like this. Cheers!

--

March 5

**Morning Status:**

I'd have one to state if I slept last night. Which I didn't. So it's a moot point. I got to class on time. Mission accomplished in all practical, detached senses of the phrase.

**11:05 AM**  
_Status_: Weird

Wow. What a morning.

Today has pretty much been the weirdest day of my life, besides yesterday.

See, first of all, I barely slept last night. I couldn't. Every time I did, my eyes would pop open and I wouldn't be able to close them again. Next, I _wasn't hungry during breakfast_. That _never _happens. I _never _fail to eat my breakfast. Like, ever. Breakfast is my favorite meal of all time, besides dessert.

So I'm sleep-deprived and my stomach isn't working properly. And, to add even more joy to that carnival o' fun, I also remembered that I have some explaining to do.

It goes without saying that I had to tell my friends what happened last night. I mean, how couldn't I? It was such a huge change in my life and they deserve to know. But getting down to _telling _them was still something I was nervous about; because if it was surreal to _me_, imagine how insane it will be for _them_.

When things are insane for _them_, Alice starts twittering like an owl on sugar and Livvy practically combusts, wringing my shoulders and repeating the same thing over and over again, as though it'll do something useful.

Sometimes, for this reason, I'm wary of giving them big news because even thinking about these things drains a girl of considerable energy.

However, five minutes ago, at the beginning of this class period, Alice innocently asked me, "Hey, Lils…what's going on with you? You seem jittery. And you didn't eat breakfast this morning, which means something's on your mind."

The look on her face was genuine, as concerned as only a friend could be, and I found myself feeling utterly guilty.

Regardless of her inevitable reaction, Alice is still Alice – my best friend in the world besides Livvy. And I must tell her today, because I love her and she deserves to know.

So I told her, "It's a long story. I'll tell you and Livvy during lunch."

Alice's interest was instantly piqued. "Does it have to do with James Potter?"

I blushed. I can't hide anything from that girl.

"Maybe," I allowed.

Alice squealed with excitement, her eyes flashing with joy. "A long story involving James Potter? Ooh…this sounds like it's going to be good…"

"Wait until lunch," I told her. "I want to tell Livvy too."

Alice's eyes flicker with mischief. "Just tell me one thing…did you snog?"

"No," I told her definitively.

"Did you profess undying love?"

"That's two things," I pointed out.

"They're related," said Alice dismissively. "Did you?"

"_No_," I said. "Now will you please wait until lunch so I can tell you and Livvy properly?"

Alice huffed. "_Fine_. But this had better be good."

"It's good," I assured her.

With this, the bell rang and we went to our seats. Alice was forced to shut up so she could listen to the lecture, while I pulled out this diary to start the first installment of what I'm going to call the "I have no idea how the hell I'm supposed to say this" line of thinking.

See, I have no idea how the hell I'm supposed to say this to my friends. I really don't. I'm going to be thinking about possible avenues of explanation during class today (screw listening to the lecture – I'll get Livvy to help me with the homework later) but I just wanted to note, for archives sake, that I am completely clueless and in-the-dark here.

Wish me luck during lunch today. I think I'll need it. I'll write about how the experience went during History of Magic.

**1:05 PM**  
_Status_: Wracked with nerves

Erm…okay. So. Yeah. I talked to Livvy and Alice last period during lunch…here's a transcript (because I'm lazy and there's a lot to say) of our conversation:

ME: (comes to the table) Hey, you two. How goes it?

LIVVY: Alice says that you have news to tell us?

ALICE: Because you do.

ME: (blushes) Well…yeah…but I was getting to that.

ALICE: Yeah, I get it, you're starved. Get your plate together, eat a little, and then tell us.

ME: Thank you. You are clearly the compassionate one in this triangle.

LIVVY: (snorts hugely)

ME: (collects food for plate and begins eating at the speed of a racehorse)

ALICE: If you die from stomach combustion, you can't tell us the story, so please slow down.

ME: Thank you, Alice, for being so concerned for my health.

LIVVY: She's right this time, Lils. We don't want you to combust. And it doesn't look all that pleasant either – calm down.

ME: Whatever. (takes a big swig of pumpkin juice) Right then. The story. You ready for this?

LIVVY: From what I understand from Alice's squealing, it has something to do with James Potter.

ME: Yes it does.

ALICE: Well, what is it?

ME: You promise you're not going to scream?

LIVVY: (pulls out wand) I'll hex her to next week if she does.

ALICE: (glowers)

ME: Excellent. Okay…well…last night, during patrol, James asked me out for Saturday, when we go to Hogsmeade.

ALICE AND LIVVY: (silent as the grave)

ME: (tentative) Erm…and I said yes.

ALICE AND LIVVY: (still silent as the grave)

ME: (blushes and takes a bite of lunch) So…that's it. We're having lunch together.

ALICE AND LIVVY: (_still _silent as the grave)

ME: Well, if that's all…

ALICE: Lily, you must be joking.

ME: Excuse me?

ALICE: You just, you have to be joking.

ME: Why?

ALICE: Because…that's too level-headed for you! I mean, the other day, you were all insecure and freaking out and I'm-not-good-enough-to-be-his-girlfriend, and now you've got a _date_. That's so normal and healthy! You can't possibly have done it!

ME: …You really know how to flatter a girl, Alice.

LIVVY: Alice, you're out of your mind. Lily, tell us everything. _Everything_. And don't leave anything out, all right? Tell us all about it and I'll try and digest.

ME: That's exactly how I felt after he told me.

But, of course, I did launch into the story with as much detail as I could recall. I told them every detail of his face when we talked, most of the things we said; and although I edited out some of the things I thought about, I was honest about most of it. Either way, the girls were transfixed with wonder through the duration of my tale, and took a while to soak it in and respond.

ALICE: That's…that's _incredible_, Lily. Just…perfect. Lovely. Fantastic.

LIVVY: You see, Lils, we were right all along. He did adore you immensely.

ME: Yeah, maybe…but it still took me by storm. When you're in the moment, when you're the other half of the couple, it never feels like what it is.

ALICE: So…what now, Lils? Do you want to be serious about him? Is this a fling, or a relationship, or what?

ME: I…dunno. I think I want to take it as it comes. I can tell that he wants to be serious, but I don't know where this will go just yet. But, if things go well, who's to say we won't stay together for a long time?

LIVVY: I'm so proud of you, Lils. You two are good together. I think this will be a positive change for you and I'm so pleased you're willing to try.

ME: Thanks, Livvy. I appreciate it.

ALICE: Merlin…I'm still floored, Lils. Never, even in my wildest dreams, did I think you were _actually _going to go out with him. I mean, yeah, I've dreamed about it, and in my dreams – daydreams, actually – it worked out beautifully, but I always figured reality would never allow it. You're so insecure, and he's so gentlemanly, that it's a horrible combination and neither of you will ever want to do what you should…it's impossible to have faith in people like you…and yet here we are…

ME: Is that a back-handed compliment buried somewhere in there, or am I just being hopeful?

LIVVY: I think she's trying to say it's good to be true.

ALICE: Yes, Livs, that's exactly what I'm trying to say. Merlin…it's going to take me a little while to get used to this idea. James and Lily, finally dating. Wait until the rest of Hogwarts hears about this…heads will roll…

ME: (alarmed) You're not going tell everyone, are you?!

ALICE: Of course not, dear, but you can't possibly think this will stay quiet for long. You two are the biggest in-thing since…I dunno, since Zonko's opened up in Hogsmeade. Everyone's going to find out the moment you're seen together.

ME: (sputters in horror)

LIVVY: Calm down, Lils. We're not going to tell anyone.

ME: But…but…but Alice…

ALICE: People are going to find out some time; but never fear, it won't be from me. Stay on the down-low for a little while – you know, for the first couple of dates. Then, later, when you guys are a little more comfortable, start being couple-like and let people know.

ME: (about to be sick)

LIVVY: You know what? Alice, shut up. She doesn't need this right now. Lils, just…just go out with James and don't think about anyone else. They don't matter. James is the only one that should mean a thing to you.

ME: …

ALICE: Lily, calm down.

LIVVY: Now you've done it, Alice…

ALICE: What? It's a viable aspect to consider!

LIVVY: Not when she's just said yes to the most important date of her life last night!

ALICE: …

LIVVY: Okay. _Okay_. So. Lils, right now, don't worry about your date. You're going to be just fine and you're going to have a lovely time. Don't talk to Alice until Saturday if you know what's good for you—

ALICE: Livvy, stop being a bitch. I'm sorry I dragged reality into the situation. Stupid thing of me to do, I know…

LIVVY: Don't go sulking on me now. It's just that Lily is already stressed out and worried and doesn't need to think about anything so ancillary and meaningless for the time being. And I was joking about not talking to you.

ALICE: You seem to make a lot of jokes at my expense…

LIVVY: Stop being a baby, Alice, you know I love you.

ALICE: You're not my mother.

LIVVY: …Anyway, Lily, like I said, don't worry about a thing and let's get to Saturday before we do too much more thinking on the matter, all right? Everything's going to be all right.

ME: …

LIVVY: This went well. Let's finish up lunch and we'll go to History, okay?

ALICE: (still slightly miffed) Whatever…

And thus, the conversation was terminated. My most difficult confession of all had been stated, put out into the open, and my friends had not lived up to their hype – which, for me, was quite a blessing. We finished lunch in relative silence, speaking again minutes later on a different, lighter subject, and then made our way to History of Magic, where I am now, writing.

It feels like there's a big load off my mind, having told Alice and Livvy the truth, but it also feels like there's a greater weight added in another place.

I mean, Alice had a point. Heads would roll if people knew James and I were going on a date. Heads certainly turned sharply when we went to the Christmas party together; and if that's any indication of what's to come, I'd rather we dropped out of school early, moved to the Swiss Alps and lived our lives in igloos among the Swiss bears and giants, who would certainly be a lot kinder to us than curious, gossip-craving Hogwarts students.

I'm so bad about being the center of attention. I hate it. I have friends, and I'm fairly well-liked among the school community, but having such an exclusive spotlight on me for something so private and uncomfortable as it is…it makes things harder. It makes me even more uncomfortable and jittery than I already am – which is already considerable.

In a way, I'm excited for Saturday to come. All the speculation will be over, along with all the worrying about how it shall unfold.

However, at the same time, I also dread it – because Merlin, I don't think I'm ever going to be ready for this. I'm the biggest coward the world has ever known. The Sorting Hat was so wrong when it put me into Gryffindor.

Okay, new policy. I'm not going to talk about the person-whose-name-begins-with-J until Saturday. I'm not going to talk about how nervous I am, or what Alice says, or what I'm expecting. I'm not going to say anything. I'm going to throw myself into my work and my friends until the day of reckoning arrives; and then – only then – shall I write in this diary about that person-whose-name-begins-with-J. I think it's the only way to preserve any last shards of my sanity.

Until later, then. I'm going to be fine. Just fine.

**5:30 PM**  
_Status_: Odd

New policy to be officially terminated.

It's just not going to work. I was absolutely ridiculous to think that it would. Avoiding the main subject of my thoughts will not help my sanity – in fact, it backfires, making me feel even worse for constantly and incessantly thinking about it. Quite a destructive cycle. Not at all good for my health.

At present, I'm sitting outside in the stands of the Quidditch pitch. It's a surprisingly nice day out – all the blustery rain we've been getting has finally cleared out for a bit. Good thing too; Livvy's been dirtier than a pig in poop for the past couple of days after practice. For this reason, I was sorely tempted to take my work outside and sit in the sunshine rather than in the suffocating environment of the common room. I figure some fresh air would do me good.

Livvy made the suggestion that I come watch practice while I work; and she invited Alice as well, but she preferred staying indoors to flirt/hang out with Frank. That left the two of us walking out together to the pitch, Livvy in Quidditch robes and me in my regular ones.

I wished Livvy luck and took a seat at the top of the stands, opening up my books and preparing myself for the focus I would need to get this done. The wind does feel lovely and cool against my face, making my hands cold but pleasantly so.

I'm trying to concentrate, but I just…don't want to. I'm looking down at the practice, writing in here to make it seem like I'm working (Livvy would kill me if she knew I intend to do absolutely nothing tonight) when I'm actually dwelling on what's going on down there, so far away from me.

The shapes of all the players – James, Livvy, Russell, Emily, Caroline, Martin, and Ryan – are little specks in the distance, James being the most obvious because he's the captain. He's shouting something that sounds like indistinct murmuring from where I'm at, while the players hop on their brooms and begin zooming in circles around the pitch.

After one round of what I assume is a quick warm-up, they break off into a complicated-looking formation, passing the four Quidditch balls around (Quaffle, Bludgers, and the Snitch – right? Merlin, Livvy would murder me…) and I'm currently watching in amazement as they pass, then come back to the ground, where James starts telling them something again. They listen attentively, and do the maneuver again, even though it looked fine to me the first time.

Their organization is startlingly good. The players are hard and intense, focusing on nothing but the task at hand, while James blows the whistle and flies up to join them. They fly together, James still yelling instructions at the top of his lungs, and while some of them roll their eyes briefly, they do what they are told.

James demands respect and efficiency – everything about him screams it – and I can't help but note this passion emanating from his very being, so different from what I usually see in him.

This is the young man I've chosen to go on a date with Saturday. This is the same guy that has increasingly become my best friend, my closest confidant, all year – who tried to buy me coffee, saved my bag from a lake, got frightened by a lizard, told me secrets and made me feel better even when I was being irrational. He has made me laugh so hard I could've died; he has made me cry; he has made me want him in so many ways, all because he's wonderful and charismatic and stubborn and relentless and I think I love everything about him.

He's got drive, this man. I'm watching him push his team so hard, _so hard_, but push himself just as hard, never letting anyone get away with anything. He looks like he'd be a difficult person to approach – absorbed in his responsibility and mildly frightening with his silent strength – but I know him to be different, layered, so much more than this.

I dunno why, or how, but it's hitting me so powerfully, at this moment, that James is something real to me. He may be this one person, taking up generally the same amount of space and matter that he does everyday; but to me, he's monumental.

The progression has been so gradual I haven't really noticed it passing, growing a little bit each day; but I know that here, nearer to the end, he means the world to me. And it's one of the most beautiful, alarming things that I have ever experienced.

I always knew he was something different. No one in my past has ever inspired the emotions I feel when I'm around him. Maybe that's why I had been so afraid to let him in; because I knew, in my heart of hearts, that he really was capable of being more than I had ever dreamed.

He's brave enough to attempt it and stubborn enough to never let me go. It's apparently a dangerous combination.

We've got a date on Saturday, me and James Potter. We're going to spend an entire afternoon as an entity we've never explored. We're going to sit at the same table together, eat something and (likely) fight over who takes the bill. We're going to give our feelings space to grow in the open, instead of slowly, quietly, in the dark. We're going to give this a try.

And, even though I know I'm never going to get over how he makes me feel, I think I do, finally, want to forfeit this fight. I want to take this where it obviously wants to go. I'm the only obstacle left in the way of our happiness.

And there, just like that, I'm done. I'm okay; I'm out of the way.

So…now what?

I guess I shall find out Saturday.

Screw my homework. Livvy can kill me. I know charms for deflection. For now, I'm going to inside, mope quietly for a little bit longer, and then go to sleep.

Until Saturday, then. Can't wait…

--

A/N: You will be pleased to know that the actual date is scheduled for next chapter. Hooray! You'd best hope my teachers are kind to me this week so I can finish that ASAP. If you'd like to murder them all for me and make my life easier, by all means, hop on a plane to Chicago and sneak lots of arsenic in your check-in baggage!

(That was a terrible joke, because I'm not funny. Please don't actually do that.)

So, either way, please review on your way out and I'll see you around next chapter, I hope!


	48. I Go Out on the Town

A/N: And here it is, two days earlier than promised because my teachers were very cooperative this week. The day of the big date. Ooooh. Are you excited? I'm excited. Let's see how this goes.

A few songs I listened to while writing – _I'm Only Me When I'm With You_ (Taylor Swift), _Fearless_ (Taylor Swift), _Stolen _(Dashboard Confessional), _First Time _(Lifehouse), _Hanging by a Moment _(Lifehouse), _Reasons to Love You _(Meiko).

Super-long chapter, so you have fun out there.

Cheers!

--

March 7

**10:45 AM  
**_Status_: Slightly freaking out

Right. So. Wow. As referenced in my status above, I'm slightly freaking out.

Why?

_Because I totally have my big date today and my systems are about to combust with pressure._

Even thinking about it now, my gut is constricting and my lungs are withering up into nothing and I'm feeling considerably nauseous. I always feel this way before a first date (experience has taught me to assume the worst at all times) but the feeling has been amplified about ten thousand percent with the companion of this _particular _date.

I keep telling myself that I'm going to be okay, this is fine, it's natural, and James is my best friend in the world, totally safe; but my first instinct is to unlock my hysterical side and I'm a person who sticks closely to her first instincts. Apparently, that works against me this time around.

I woke up Alice and Livvy the moment I opened my eyes, stumbling into their dormitory with my pyjamas still on and shouting for their attention. Quite the role reversal, since this is usually Livvy's job instead of mine; but fortunately for me, they are easier to wake than I am. They were up in a couple of yells.

We wasted no time in the matter. This was an important day and the girls knew it; so instead of indulging in the usual preliminaries – Alice yawning, Livvy chastising Alice for being so overt, Alice yawning again just to bug her – we wordlessly arrived at the same agenda and scurried straight to my dormitory to begin our pre-date ritual. At once, I allowed my frantic energy to come out into the open and mercifully succumbed to my panic.

"I haven't a _clue _what I'm supposed to wear!" I wailed, throwing my drawers open and wildly tossing clothes all over my room in desperation. "What do you wear when your life as you know it is about to end?!"

"You're being a little melodramatic here," said Alice reasonably, as though she was qualified to make such a statement. "I mean, your life is not going to end with this date. You'll have fun and you'll be fine. Think of it like patrol at a bizarre time in Hogsmeade, with a meal attached."

I made some bizarre noise and continued flinging things around, my face flustered and warm and my stomach shriveled up to the size of a prune. Alice chuckled, giving up on me, and Livvy took over. She approached me and gently touched my shoulder, making me jump.

"Lils, calm down," she said, sitting me down on my bed and keeping her hands firmly on my shoulders. "You're going to be all right. Can you repeat that with me? I, Lily Evans, am going to be all right."

"I, Lily Evans, am going to be all right," I breathed.

"Again," Livvy ordered.

"I, Lily Evans, am going to be all right," I said obediently. Surprisingly, the mantra did help, and Livvy had me say it four more times before she was satisfied.

"Good, good," she said. "There. Now, let's please _calmly_ look through these clothes. You have a nice wardrobe and it's not like he's taking you to some ball or anything. You're going out to Hogsmeade. You only have to look a _little _nicer than usual."

"How about these?" suggested Alice, rummaging through the avalanche of clothes littered on the floor, holding up my dark blue jeans. "They always look great on you – even when you're bloated after some monstrous breakfast or something."

"Yes," I said, immediately holding my arms out for them. "Yes, yes, yes, I'm wearing those."

Alice grinned and pitched the jeans to me. I hugged them to my chest before promptly lobbing them back on my bed while I began hunting for a sweater. I wanted to take a shower before I changed, so I wouldn't smell bad. That would be mortifying. But I still needed to know what I was wearing on top before I dressed.

"I think I might wear that white sweater of mine," I said. "You know, the lovely thick one I've got?"

"No," said Alice sharply. "It looks like your grandmother knitted it for you by hand!"

"Well, she did," I said, hurt.

"And that's exactly why you're going to wear something with a _touch _more style to your date," said Alice. "Like…this?" She held up my pale golden full-sleeve shirt. "You could wear it with your brown belt – the one with the big butterfly on it? You would look so cute!"

"That's the thing, it's too cute for this date," I said, tossing the sweater on my chair. "I need something…well, cute, but date-cute, not everyday-cute."

Livvy wrinkled her nose, clearly not understanding this, but Alice – being Alice – nodded vigorously, letting the offending sweater fall to the ground where it was quickly forgotten about.

"What about your navy V-neck sweater?" asked Livvy, finding the corresponding article of cloth next to her foot. "You okay with a bit of cleavage?"

"No!" I cried. "I can't show _cleavage_! That's a third-date thing, Livvy!"

Livvy huffed as she threw the sweater aside, but Alice grinned and retrieved it, glancing it over critically.

"You know, Lils, this isn't a bad option," she said. "I mean, you have incredibly tiny boobs and this actually makes it look like you deserve a bra. There's nothing wrong with reminding James that you're a girl, is there?"

Mortified, I snatched the sweater away from her and threw it over my shoulder. "Alice! I am not showing my boobs on this date!"

"Too bad," said Alice with a shrug. "They're so…tiny. It's kind of cute."

I bit my lip and instinctively covered my chest with my hands. This made Alice laugh.

"Okay, okay, fine, no more boob talk," she said cheerfully, clearly reveling in the repeated use of the word 'boob,' which was doing a number on me at the moment. "What else could you wear?"

"What about her light pink V-neck shirt, with the brown butterfly belt, and her big pink flower?" piped up Livvy. "That has a higher neckline than the navy sweater, so Lily won't have to worry about her boobs; that belt is really cute; and the flower adds a fun, feminine touch."

"Perfect!" chirped Alice.

"A little much," I said critically. "I don't want to overdo the accessories. Maybe the flower only, not the belt?"

"Or you could have that braided white belt instead," said Alice excitedly. "You know, the thin one that Livvy got your for your birthday two years ago?"

"Yes!" I ran to my set of drawers and opened the drawer under the first, rooting briefly through it before holding up the aforementioned belt in triumph. "Yes, yes, yes!"

"Lovely," said Livvy approvingly. "Get dressed and come downstairs in the next…ten, fifteen minutes? I'm in the mood for a spot of breakfast and we've pretty much averted this latest crisis. A break would be nice before the next one."

"Sounds good," said Alice as I sighed. "Lily, wear your clear lip gloss, nothing too fancy, and some mascara won't kill you. Use the Flabersky hair potion, _not _the Babbington one – curls are better than straight hair for a first date, much flirtier – and leave your hair down, not in that ridiculous ponytail you wear sometimes. Improvise a little if you must, but avoid it because I don't trust you. Okay?"

"Sure," I said. This is common first-date advice from Alice. "I'll see you two in the Great Hall, then."

They saluted me and went off to eat, leaving me alone in my dormitory to get dressed. I did so, taking care to clean behind my ears and fingernails and everything, putting on extra perfume and using liberal amounts of hair potion. I not only put on mascara, but I was dangerous and put on a little eyeliner as well. Alice will be so proud.

I'm ready now, just have to go meet Alice and Livvy to freak a little bit more before the date, but I wanted to write before I went. I'm sure I'll love reading back to pre-date jitters some time later in the future, plus it helps ease my anxiety. I'm already feeling a little better, a little calmer.

I'd better run, then. My stomach's growling and I want breakfast. My date's in an hour. I'll write the moment I come back to the castle.

Until later then!

**4:15 PM**  
_Status_: Breathless

You know how it is, when you run really fast down a long path, faster than you ever have before, and you feel like your lungs are going to tear and your legs are going to give out; but you're so full of adrenaline that you don't even care?

And you feel like you're flying, pushing the boundaries of your own humanity to the point where you seem to bypass them altogether?

And then, when you have to skid to a stop eventually, your heart is beating, beating, beating like continuous thunder and you can feel swear pouring out of your skin and you can't breathe and you're out of this whole world and everything feels almost too sharp to be real?

And then you wonder if it all really happened the way it did and you can't find words for it and you feel like you're superhuman, as if no one can touch you?

I mean…there seem to be _no _words in the English language that accurately convey how I feel, so that extended metaphor (which Livvy would likely roll her eyes at) was all I could think of to express just how vast my heart is right now; how my head is fluttering around the room; how fireworks are exploding in my stomach and making my body temperature shoot through the sky.

This morning, I was terribly afraid of what this date could be – and my fears were legitimate, mind – but…wow. I've never been so _happy _before. It's almost as scary as doubting everything; because it feels unfair, that you can be so high on top of the world when there are others so miserable, and you feel guilty because you think you're getting way more than your share of the universe's supply of joy.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. I only feel this mammoth ecstasy _now_. However, at the beginning of the date, it really could have gone either way.

Allow me to explain.

See, when I last wrote, I was on my way to the Great Hall to meet Alice and Livvy, who were eating a bit of breakfast before seeing me off on my date and heading off to Hogsmeade themselves with their boyfriends. I was hungry and figured I could have a bit of a pick-me-up before eating my real meal, because food calms me down and I hadn't had breakfast yet anyway, a cardinal sin in my book. I arrived before my amused friends and did a little twirl, so they could take in the full effect of my outfit, before I sat down.

"Wow, Lils, you look wonderful," said Livvy sincerely.

"Despite the lack of boobs?" I asked, gesturing to my chest – which did, admittedly, look kind of small in the shirt I'd chosen. Both girls grinned at my reference.

"Yes, Lils – even though nature apparently hates you in that department, you do look hot," said Alice, evidently impressed. "Ickle Jamie is going to eat his poor little heart out!"

I smirked, blushed a little at the Alice-esque compliment, and tucked my curls behind my ear, going on to make myself a sausage-and-biscuit-roll sandwich. Alice continued to take me in, nodding slowly, like she was evaluating me or something.

"I think the flower is fresh and pretty," she declared after a moment or two. "You look great. You're going to have a good time."

"I dunno," I said, adding butter and a bit of egg to my sandwich and ripping off half of my masterpiece in one bite. "I just…I'm nervous. He wanted to meet me by noon. There's so much to _decide_. Like…how late should I go?"

"What do you mean, how late should you go?" Not for the first time today, Livvy was confused. "Shouldn't you turn up on time, at noon?"

Alice tsk-tsked Livvy under her breath. "Darling, you clearly know nothing about dating psychology, so I suggest you keep your mouth shut and learn for a few minutes, while I coach Lily through her worries. Okay?"

Livvy rolled her eyes. "I don't know what intentionally being five minutes late will achieve – does that make me challenged?"

"Yes," said Alice. Then she turned to me. "Okay, Lily. For any other date, I'd say go five minutes late; but because it's James and he'd probably crap himself thinking you stood him up, I'd say only go two minutes late. I'll time it for you."

"Or," cut in Livvy, her tone a little loud and exaggerated, "you could simply go _at noon _and save both of you the worry of being perfectly late. You set a time for a reason."

"And as for greeting," said Alice, going on like Livvy had said nothing. "I'd say…keep it shy and flirty. Sidle in slowly – you don't want to look eager – and leave your hair loose, not behind your ear. Be private. Be cute. Make him work a little harder to _get _to you."

"He's worked to get her for almost four years!" Livvy pointed out. "I'd say give the guy a break, walk in normally, give him a hug, and go on your date. He wants _you_, not some Alice-ified version of you."

"That's a terrible thing to say, Olivia Harris," proclaimed Alice. "I am not _Alice-ifying _Lily; I'm trying to make her the best she can be for her first date, because she's my best friend and I love her. What the hell does _Alice-ifying _even _mean_?"

This conflicting advice to my already-fragile psyche was not doing me any good at all. In trying to listen and remember all of what they were saying, I finished the other half of my sandwich in one bite; and, finding my jaws unoccupied, I munched on another bread roll while stocking up on sausage and egg alone.

"You are clearly not being a helpful advisor to Lily – poor thing is nervous enough – and I'd suggest you stop trying to give her solutions to every possible scenario," said Livvy. "I mean, he's in love with _her_, isn't he? He loves who she is without any coaching; who she is when you're not around to tell her what she should or shouldn't do. Let him go out with _that _girl, rather than the girl you think she ought to be."

"I know that's how she is!" cried Alice. "She can barely think – she'll freeze – and I'm doing her a favor, Livs!"

I just about wanted to cry, watching them argue on the best way to help me. I so desperately wanted to just _go_, get this anticipation over with, because my moods were all over the place, sometimes calm and then off-the-map two seconds later. After the fact, I have a nagging feeling that my emotional indecisiveness was only embellished further by Alice and Livvy; but at the time, I had no idea what the hell was going on with me.

So, because my friends were otherwise incapacitated, I did the only thing I knew how to do when I was stressed out – I ate.

Oh, I don't even remember what all I ate. Sausage, egg, and bread were definitely my crutches – along with butter and jam for the bread – but I also had a lot of orange juice, with maybe a couple helpings of oatmeal. And some more sausages. The sausages were thick and juicy today, making them next to irresistible for a girl like me.

The worst thing was, I ate all this in very quick succession. I came downstairs with half an hour to my date and spent about twenty-eight of these minutes stuffing my face with everything within reach, looking like a pig but not caring, because the challenge of getting all those food morsels into my stomach trumped fearing my date in my insane brain. It's kind of like self-preservation for me.

But it's not very healthy self-preservation…and by the time it was time for me to get out to the Entrance Hall and meet James, I was feeling sick to my bones and wanted to die.

Alice and Livvy eventually did trail off arguing, choosing instead to distract me with their babbling, but the deed was already done by the time they noticed. I was _sick _and I had to be out there in the next couple of minutes. Livvy, as always, was utterly scandalized.

"Lily, what the _hell _were you thinking?" she demanded. "You can't eat that much breakfast! You're sure to become ill and your whole meal schedule will be off today!"

At this precise moment, I released the world's most obnoxious belch, immediately followed by the world's reddest blush. Alice laughed, but Livvy groaned.

"Lils, _honestly_," she said, cross. "Don't do that during your date."

"I don't want to go," I moaned. "Too nervous."

"You made a commitment," said Alice, fired up at once. "You have to go! James will die!"

"_I _am going to die," I said, patting my stomach and coughing. "At least, I want to."

"Well, who told you to eat the entire breakfast spread by yourself?" said Livvy. "Now, get up. It's a minute to noon. Get out there and meet James for your date. It's clearly too dangerous to let you sit in here, where there's food, for three minutes as Alice suggested."

"Go," agreed Alice. "I don't want you to explode before you get a chance to go on _one _date with that boy."

"Okay," I said, getting unsteadily to my feet, feeling horribly bloated. "Dunno why he would want me now…"

"I dunno either," said Alice, snickering.

"But he does, and you're going to be fine," said Livvy. "You're actually quite lucky – you're not nearly as bloated as you should be."

"Lucky me," I murmured.

"You're going to be just fine," said Livvy, patting my shoulder understandingly. "Go. Enjoy yourself and make sure you tell us all about it, okay?"

"Okay," I repeated weakly.

"Livvy's right, for once," said Alice, patting me as well. "It'll be the best date of your life. Just…flirt. Smile. Be happy. It's not hard."

Yeah right.

The girls had previously decided not to accompany me to the Entrance Hall, insisting I needed to do this on my own because if this all worked out, he'd end up being my boyfriend rather than theirs; so I was forced to get up from the table alone, my heart thumping about as loud as my angry stomach, willing myself to stay calm.

I wandered into the familiar hall, my eyes scanning the area for James; and sure enough, there he was, waiting on the other side of the staircase, leaning up against it and whistling softly to himself. I saw him a fraction of a second before he saw me; but then he saw me too, and our eyes met, tentative and raw. I was pleased to note that he also looked nervous as hell.

"Hey Lils," he said, approaching me with a sweet little smile on his face, glancing at me up and down. "You…erm…you look beautiful."

"Thanks," I said, feeling my cheeks go their usual hateful pink. "You look…erm…really good as well."

And he did. He was wearing khaki pants – actually pressed and wrinkle-free – under a semi-casual full-sleeve shirt with green and blue stripes. He had clearly taken some pains to tame his hair – some of it was actually sitting flat, for once – but it was more the effort of the ensemble that touched me, rather than the effect (which was, don't get me wrong, quite good).

He had made an honest attempt at dressing up for me. Somehow, even though I'd done the same for him, I liked knowing that.

"So…are you ready to go?" James asked me, hands running through his hair.

"Yes," I said with a nod.

"I was thinking we could start at the Three Broomsticks," he said, "and then just…I dunno, whatever you want. Window-shopping or a walk around the lake."

"Sounds good," I said with a nervous trill that could not be my own.

"Okay," he said, going about as pink as me (unbelievable!). "So…erm…you want to…?"

"Yeah," I said, scrambling back to life and walking with him to the front doors.

I was about to open it myself, but James gallantly stepped forward and we ended up having both our hands on the handle at the same time. Of course, we blushed brilliantly, and both let go, letting the other open the door. It was so incredibly ridiculous. Eventually, I opened it, and at long last, we were on our way. Our first date had officially begun.

First dates have always been a problem for me. Always. I'm awful with introductions, because I'm mortified by/self-conscious of my clumsy company, and I'm not sure how the other person will react to them. James, I know, has seen me at some of my quirkiest moments, and I was sure he wouldn't freak out and run away; but that didn't change how I felt about myself, and how terrified I was that I was going to screw up.

Plenty has gone wrong on other first dates. I've snorted pumpkin juice through my nose; I've tripped and fallen countless times, often bringing my unfortunate date down with me; I've spilled food all over myself; once, I even poked one guy in the eye with my fork (don't even ask how that one happened).

It was almost like a litmus test – if the poor guy could be injured or watch such childish mishaps occur while on his date, and not want to run screaming, he was worth trying out.

And today, I mean, come on. I practically ate the entire Gryffindor table in my nervous haze. There had to be more quirks coming down the line, if I was already being a stupid fool _before _the date.

These were the thoughts running through my mind while we walked down this familiar pathway to the village, in such an unfamiliar context. We were silent, not really sure what to say, and that was perfectly fine with me because I did not have the mental capacity to say anything intelligent anyway. And I felt kind of nauseous, too, with all that breakfast in my digestive tract. Not a good situation. What was _wrong _with me?

Soon enough, we approached the Three Broomsticks, that familiar haven so close to the entrance of the village, and James led me to it. I glanced down by chance and noticed his hand twisting anxiously in all these different shapes, coming close to me but then returning to its original position, playing some kind of strange pendulum game around his leg. It took me a moment, but I quickly deduced that he was conflicted on whether or not to hold my hand, and I softened at the sight of it.

Aww! He was every bit as weird and messed-up and panicky as me! He hadn't a clue what to do either! It kind of made me smile, as he held the door open this time to let me in. I was _not _the only one conflicted. That made me feel better than anything else he could've possibly done today.

We walked into the center of the pub, looking around for a place to sit.

"Do you see a table open?" James asked me.

"Yes, back there," I said, spotting it and pointing it out.

"Well done!" he said approvingly. "C'mon, let's snag it before someone else does."

"Agreed," I said, "but you're leading the way because I know I'm going to trip and hurt myself. There's a lot of people around."

James laughed and agreed. "All right," he said. "Here, take my hand and I'll get you through."

After only a moment's hesitation, I stuck my hand into his – it was firm, but also unmistakably sweaty, poor thing – and we were off towards the table in the back. I must say, the Quidditch has done wonders to his physical condition – that boy walks _fast_. We were there much faster than I would've been if I was with, say, Alice and/or Livvy.

We collapsed together on the seats, thrilled to have our table, and James drummed his fingers absently on the table. I noticed, by chance, that it was the beat to "I Will Love You Always," by Celestina Warbeck. Or it was just my imagination.

"So…you hungry?" he asked, rising to his feet. "Because I am. I haven't had any breakfast."

At the mention of food, my light nausea amplified to full-on nausea, complete with sweaty forehead, aching tummy, and inexplicable loss of the ability to speak coherently.

"Erm…I'm okay," I murmured. "I'm fine. You go get yourself something and…and I'll stay here."

James looked curiously at me. "Did you forget your money again? Is that it?" he inquired.

I blushed, remembering the basis of this question – or, rather, two questions. "No," I said. "I…erm…just go. I'll wait here."

"Are you sure?" James's expression was one of the utmost concern. "Lils, you don't look too good. Are you all right?"

At this exact moment, someone walked out of the back with a glass of orange juice. _Orange juice_. The pungent smell of it pervaded my nostrils, making me feel absolutely horrible, like all time had stopped and I was left with a very unpleasant sensation in what was likely my esophagus.

It was familiar in a terrible way, familiar from all the times I had stomach flu or ate something bad at some restaurant, and all I wanted to do was sink through the floor, never to be heard from again.

No. No, no, no. _No_. Not now. Not here. Oh please, if there's a God up there, hear my plea and don't let this happen. No. No. Damn it, _no_, I'm on a _date_! Please let it pass please let it pass please let it pass…

"Lily?" James's voice – tentative and confused – came to me as though I was underwater and he was standing on a cliff two hundred feet above me.

"I'm fine," I tried to tell him faintly, but there it was. The Lump. It was in my throat…it was traveling…oh Merlin no…no…no…

And then, just like that, there it was. The final surge came forth, my back arched, my head faced down and right there, in the middle of the seating area of the Three Broomsticks, my mouth opened and I vomited. _Just bloody like that_.

Heads turned like hawks towards me, curious people (adults _and _Hogwarts students) wondering who was throwing up at, like, twelve thirty in the afternoon. I was sure James was horrified – likely thinking, '_who the hell have I been petitioning to date since I was thirteen?'_ – but my brain isn't that big. I couldn't focus on getting all this sick out of me _while _worrying what James thought of me. One thing at a time.

The whole ordeal lasted about a minute. I coughed and sputtered and vomited in three stretches before I felt my stomach quietly nestling back in its usual spot, no longer swollen and upset. My mouth tasted revolting, though. Coughing a final time, with my full audience watching with bated breath, I swallowed and lifted my head, my cheeks the reddest they've ever been.

"Erm…I'm okay," I said feebly. Much of the bar area around us was watching me. "Just…erm…just a little bug. Nothing to worry about. Carry on with your Saturday afternoons."

The people slowly began turning away, murmuring as soon as they got all the way around so I knew they were talking about me. Humiliated, I looked up at my poor date, who was still thunderstruck, and tried to smile.

"Sorry," I said.

"It's fine," he said stiffly.

Then he looked down past my face, his cheeks about as pink as mine. I looked down too, and I swear, at this point, I would've given anything, _anything_, to be _anyone _else.

Why?

Because I had bloody thrown up on James's shoes.

_James's shoes. _His not-muddy, rather-nice shoes that he had worn specially for our date. They were covered with Lily-sick.

Bloody hell. Bloody, bloody hell.

"Oh, blimey, I'm such an idiot!" I lamented. "I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay," he said. "It's not like you did it on purpose."

"Here, I have my wand," I said, pulling it out of my pocket and nonverbally getting rid of all the vomit on the floor and James's shoes. "My word. I'm so sorry. Let me just run to the bathroom quickly and I'll be right back."

"Sure," he mumbled, collapsing in a seat, clearly unsure what the hell was going on. I fled the scene to the bathroom, where I washed my mouth out _thoroughly _at the sink. I felt so awful, looking at myself in the mirror, my meticulously curled hair and the flower my friends had so lovingly taken out for me. All this effort, only to be wasted when I did the least attractive thing I could've possibly done. I'd say this screw-up was more disastrous than any of the others – including the guy I stabbed in the eye with a fork. Poor, poor James.

When I was satisfied with the state of my mouth, I cleared my throat and sidled out of the bathroom to our table, where James was waiting for me. I smiled uncertainly at him, but by this time, his good humor had returned and he grinned like a jack-o'-lantern back at me.

"Hey," he said. "Feeling better?"

"Much," I admitted. "Sorry again. About your shoes."

Then, after a pause, going with my honesty (for once)—

"If you want to go back to the castle and just forget any of this ever happened, that's fine with me," I said. "I'm not exactly the most glamorous date you've ever had."

"Are you kidding?" he asked incredulously. "You go out with me after, Merlin, three and a half years of pining and you think I'm going to be deterred by a little vomit? You've got to be joking. And besides, these are Sirius's shoes, not mine. I don't care what you do to them."

I couldn't help but giggle at this. I was totally lost for words. James grinned even wider, if it was even possible.

"Besides, I think this is probably the most interesting first date I've ever had with any girl," he said.

"It's probably the most mortifying out of all mine," I confessed.

"That's all right," he said sweetly. "Hey, it's only me, right? You're in the clear."

"Thank goodness," I remarked.

"C'mon," he said, "let's get out of here. Clearly, the smell of food is not good for you."

"But you said you were hungry," I said worriedly.

"Yeah, I know," he said, "and I am. So you and I are going to go to Honeydukes. You will stand outside and I will get myself a snack and come back out."

"Sounds excellent," I said, relieved.

"Great," he said. "Let's go!"

With this, James took my hand again and got me out of the Three Broomsticks, back into the fresh air of the Main Road. Together, then, we set off to Honeydukes, where I did indeed wait outside while James bought himself something to nibble on. He was in there about five minutes before he re-emerged in the doorway, now armed with a baggie of about ten healthy-sized cookies. The sight of it made me laugh.

"Aren't you going to eat any lunch?" I asked.

"This _is _lunch," James replied. "And if I want anything wholesome – which is unlikely – I know where the kitchens are. You're in the clear."

I smiled at him and bit my lip, but otherwise remained silent. James took the first cookie out of his baggie and happily munched it as the two of us wandered down the main street, past all the shops and students enjoying their day out. It was nice, just us meandering around together, content merely with the company of the other, me looking around and James eating cookies like they were going out of style. He really was hungry.

After about four and a half cookies, though, he started up the conversation again.

"So…why did you get so sick in the pub there?" he asked me. "I mean, you looked a little off before, too, but I'm not sure why. You've never done that before."

I blushed. "Well…erm…it's kind of embarrassing…"

"You've already thrown up on my shoes," James pointed out. "I deserve to know. And I promise I won't laugh."

"Okay," I gave in. "The reason I got sick was…I ate too much breakfast this morning. I was kind of ready to combust with tension for our date, and Alice and Livvy had conflicting advice on how to go about the situation, and the whole thing was so stressful, I did the thing I do best when I don't know what to do – I ate. And judging by the fact that I threw up, I clearly was quite nervous. So, technically, that makes it all your fault."

My face was warm and sufficiently red – I swear, I was going to permanently red with how much I blushed around this guy – but James was spectacularly pink as well, and quite pleased.

"Really?" he asked, surprised. "You were so nervous, you ate yourself sick?"

"Yes," I muttered almost inaudibly.

"Wow. I didn't know I had such a profound effect on your well-being," he said, his smile impish but almost too sweet to be true. "But don't worry. I think that's adorable."

At once, this fired me up, and I put my hands to my hips, right back on my guard.

"Hey, hey, hey," I said. "I am not a ditzy fop crying in the dead of night because you winked at me. Let's make that clear."

"I don't think that at all," he said, face solemn, although his mouth twitched with humor.

"You do, and that's not at all fair," I announced. "I'm _sure _I've made you nervous too. Haven't I?"

"Yes, of course you do," he said, unabashed. "I'm not afraid of admitting that."

"Really?" The sincerity in his voice, rather than the content of his remark, was what struck a cord in me, made me listen more attentively.

"Yeah," he said, as though this should've been obvious. "I mean, come on. You're Lily Evans. I've fancied you forever. This date…I woke up at five in the morning because I had a dream I overslept and forgot to meet you. Sirius, Remus, and Peter made me a community dress-up doll, trying to make me wear this or that, fix my hair, the whole shebang. It was terrible. Sirius had to nick Calming Drought from Madam Pomfrey yesterday because he reckoned I was losing my mind."

"Well, on your defense, it doesn't take much for Sirius to think you're losing your mind," I pointed out.

"True, but he was right," said James with a sigh. "I was losing my mind. I always lose my mind a little when I think about you. It's just…I dunno, that's what you do to me. I didn't want to mess this up."

"Neither did I," I said. "But hey, it's okay. It's only me, right? You're in the clear."

James broke into a grin and so did I and an inexplicable wash of warmth flooded through me, making the environment around me feel sharp and exultant and altogether too wonderful to be true. Something about him simply opened up my flood-gates, made me feel so comfortable and so easy-going and…I dunno…_appealing_.

I'm sure by this point, it's become abundantly clear that I am not exactly the perfect catch. I am clumsy and irresponsible; I have a habit of being emotionally irrational; I can't wake up in the morning; I will take three steps back before I take one step forward; I can eat up a storm if I want to; I am stubborn and apparently challenged when it comes to anything remotely feminine (i.e. boys and fashion).

But…I dunno. When I'm around James, somehow it doesn't matter that I am kind of a screw-ball. He takes it all in stride, teasing me and poking me and, in the case of this afternoon, shoving cookies in my face to see if he can get another reaction out of me.

He liked being around me. He didn't mind that I'm irrational and mildly insane. He voluntarily hangs out with Sirius Black, for Merlin's sake – this kid has nerves of steel.

And Alice was right – horsing around with him in the village _was _a lot like an extended patrol, only in Hogsmeade.

We just…clicked. We were comfortable and natural around each other, not putting up any pretences or anything. All the insecurities that had chased me around my head this morning vanished in the light of day and the light of his eyes, leaving me in this impossibly happy state, laughing so hard that my stomach hurt in a different way.

However, there _was _a catch. Of course. And it occurred when James and I were sitting outside Honeydukes, betting on how many malt chocolate balls James could consume in the course of a minute. He was in the midst of a good stretch, tossing them in three at a time and swallowing them unbelievably fast, when we heard someone call our names.

"Lily? James?"

Instinctively, we both turned our heads to see who was addressing us, James with five chocolate balls dissolving in his mouth, me dangling another over his mouth.

And, from the throng of people across the street from us, arrived Sarah Emerson, a haughtily inquisitive expression on her pointed face.

Inwardly, I totally groaned.

Sarah Emerson is one of those people that really deserve a good round of slaps on her stupid, practically-non-existent bum. She's a goody two-shoes that thinks she can be both an angel and a flirtatious demon without anyone noticing the discrepancy. She's smug, she's cool, she's conceited, and she's so thin that it's a natural wonder she can hold her body weight at all.

Worse still, she's almost as big a gossip as Mary Macdonald.

She was pretty much the last person I wanted to see; but there she was, in the flesh (or, rather, bone), walking towards James and I with that stupid face of hers arranged in what is clearly meant to be nonchalant curiosity.

"Hi," she said, more to James than to me. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"It's a Hogsmeade weekend," said James, smirking. "And it's the afternoon. _Everyone's _here."

"I ought to have made my meaning clearer," said Sarah in a voice like artificial sugar. "I didn't expect to see you here with _her_." And here, she gestured to me.

"Hi, Emerson," I said, striving to be as cool as she could only wish she was.

"Pleasure, Evans," said Sarah, although her eyes remained on James, surveying them calmly. "So…what is this, official Head business?"

"No," I said sharply.

"Sarah, I'm eating chocolate balls," he said. "This can't be Head work. Otherwise, everyone would want it."

"Chocolate is bad for your skin," Sarah remarked, choosing to glance once at me only now. How I wish I could've hexed her…it would've been so easy…

"Yeah, well, most of the good stuff is," said James, smirking again. "But…erm…we're kind of in the middle of snack-time…"

This would, for any normal human being, be the cue to finally go away and leave us alone. However, we were not dealing with a normal human being. We were dealing with Sarah Emerson.

So instead of leaving, Sarah released a stupidly high giggle and said, "Wait, so what is this, a _date_?"

Instantly, I went pink and stuffed a chocolate ball in my mouth to avoid answering this question. Part of me wanted to shove it in her face that _yes_, I'm on a date with James Potter, you ridiculous hag; but the other part of me (the rational part) knew that telling Sarah Emerson anything would result in the entire school knowing within hours.

And as much as I adored James, I didn't think I was ready to become restroom gossip just yet.

James seemed to feel differently, though. He paused a moment, letting the question sink in, and then said, with so much defiance that my heart swelled the tiniest bit, "Yes, Sarah. Lily and I are on a date. Is there anything else you want to know?"

Sarah and I were both slightly affronted by the intensity in James's tone, but I was so pleased I could barely have articulated it for him. In my head, I did a victory dance; in reality, I blushed deeply pink again and ate another chocolate ball; and in both worlds, I slipped my hand towards his on the bench, squeezing it tightly but briefly before taking it back.

Sarah, on the other hand, arched one of her ice-blonde eyebrows and took in the sight of us, unsure of how to take this revelation.

"Wow," she said at last. "_Wow. _I'm just…surprised. Evans, didn't you say you would rather date the Giant Squid when we were in fifth year?"

James turned to look at me, expression indecipherable. I looked helplessly back at him. This was a direct question and now I had to answer it.

I had two choices – go with my initial instinct to lie and say we weren't dating, or stand up for us and tell Sarah the truth.

And I had about five seconds to make the choice.

So I cleared my throat and declared, "Well, then it seems the Giant Squid has taken on a striking resemblance to James Potter in an attempt to win my heart, doesn't it?"

Sarah looked at me as though I'd slapped her – I could see the initial defeat, but also the sparkle of maliciousness, the one that always preceded her making a major gossip leak to all the wrong people.

Instantly, I knew I was toast; and my hunch was only confirmed when Sarah said, "Right. Well, congratulations, James. We all know how hard you've toiled to get your girl. I'll leave you two at it. See you later."

And with that, she turned on her heel and made her escape to her group of friends back on the other side of the street. James and I were left alone at our bench, the box of chocolates still open and ready for another timer. The moment she was out of earshot, we turned to catch the other's eye, unsure of how to take this.

"You do know," I said slowly, "that we're done for? Sarah is going to tell everyone and by tomorrow, everyone in the school will know we went out."

"That's fine," he said easily. "Let her tell them. I _want _her to tell them."

I wrinkled my nose, puzzled, and he clarified, "Lily Evans, I think you are the most wonderful person I know and I just spent an amazing afternoon with you. I'd shout it from rooftops if I could."

In spite of myself, I giggled and nudged him with my shoulder. "You're so silly," I said. "Don't you want to keep even one facet of your life to yourself?"

James shrugged. "That's not really a viable option at this school. You might as well embrace it."

I pursed my lips at him and felt my cheeks go bright red. "If you say so."

After this exchange, James decided to have another go with the chocolate balls – he got his record this time, twenty-eight in a minute – and we then decided to call it a day. We both had homework to do before dinner. I stood up faster than him and grabbed his hand, intending to pull him playfully to his feet; but because James loves to mess with me, he purposely refused to hold his own weight and tried to make me lift him up on purely my own strength, which of course I couldn't do because he's practically seventy-five percent muscle.

I shouted and complained and whined and he eventually gave in, standing up on his own and walking back to the castle with me, the two of us giggling uncontrollably and finishing up the last of the chocolate balls together. James had gotten a little excited in the shop and bought a ridiculous excess that I surely couldn't keep if I liked my waistline the size it was.

On the way up, when we were rid of the chocolate box and we had to climb the last hill before we came to the front doors of the castle, I glanced down at my side again and noticed that James's hand was doing that nervous twisty thing, dangerously close to my leg. This time, I decided to take mercy on him and firmly took his hand in mine, giving it a little squeeze like I had on the bench in Hogsmeade.

He was surprised, certainly – I heard him take the softest intake of breath when we touched – but he was swift to return the pressure. And, thus linked together, we ran towards the castle, our hair whipping out behind us, our joyful shrieks blending into the very wind, our hands warm and united against the cool March air. That was likely one of my favorite parts of our time together.

When we reached the castle, then, we were panting and slowed down so as not to knock anyone over in the corridors. I had to take my hand back to try and fix my wind-blown curls, which were wearing off and starting to revert back to their usual wavy mess. James, too, ran his fingers through his hair, probably wondering how well the hair potion had worked.

It was only at this point that I noticed how messy he had become – his hair everywhere, his shirt jostled and a little crinkled, his shoes sporting some mud from the village. And, more importantly, I noticed how much I liked him this way, rather than the other way. It was just his way and I loved it. But I didn't tell him so.

James wanted to go to his dormitory and I wanted to go to mine, so we made our way upstairs to our little corner and said our good-bye in front of my portrait.

"Well…erm…thanks for a brilliant time, Lils," said James, kind of shy as his hand went straight to his hair, much like at the start of the afternoon. "I had fun."

"Me too," I said sincerely. "Thank you so much. I enjoyed it."

James swallowed thickly and looked awkwardly at my collarbone, as though it would be the one to tell him what to do next. I bit my lip and looked at the ceiling, similarly unsure, and let a few seconds by before I said, "So…I'm going to go inside now."

"Right, right," he said, snapping out of his reverie. "Erm…I'll see you tomorrow."

"Want to have breakfast together?" I asked.

"On any other Sunday, I'd say yes, but I've got my match tomorrow," he said apologetically. "We can have dinner, if you want."

My ears red, I nodded and said, "Sure. All right. Well…good luck tomorrow. I don't know if I'll see you before the game."

"Likely not," he said. "So…thanks. Again."

"No problem."

My smile was shy and my cheeks, like my ears, were quite red. (I wish I could count how many times I've said that this entry, because it's sure to be some ridiculously high number, but I can't help it! This kid makes me blush!) I was about to turn and go to my dormitory, but James firmly put his hand out to shake, as though we were finalizing a huge deal or something.

I stared at his hand, solid and mannish, waiting for me in midair. For a couple of seconds, I wanted to shake it, bring this date-out-of-my-dreams to an end; but then, I thought better of it.

Instead of shaking his hand, I leapt forward and wrapped my arms around his neck in a good, honest-to-goodness hug.

Surprised, but happy, James immediately adapted to the hug, wrapping his arms tightly around me, doing something they'd never done before and looping around my waist. I found I didn't mind, however, and we stood there, holding each other, the combined scent of cologne, shampoo, and wet grass in my nose.

After several seconds of reveling in his touch, he gently disentangled himself from me, the loveliest look on his face, like he was dazed after being hit in the face with a cannonball.

"Bye, Lily," he said.

Then he kissed me lightly on my cheek – repeat that, _kissed me _– before disappearing into his portrait hole.

And after that…here I am, lying on my bed with my hair all over the place, writing about the whole affair, simply marveling at the fact that it _happened_, every single bit of it, and I'm not making anything up.

I am _so happy _right now, it's barely comprehensible. My senses are in overload, working in overtime to put these precious memories into my long-term memory where I may replay them in my every downcast moment. Every fiber of my being is tingling with excitement, every bit of me fluttering like a million butterflies contained in but a mere net.

It's not safe to feel this good. The crash will only be worse, when you come up this high, because Newton said what comes up must go down, and I've got a long way to go if that's the case. But I find that I only ever think this way when I'm by myself, reflecting on the experience after the fact.

There is something about James that has me dwelling obsessively when he's gone, but so effortlessly cheerful and ignorant when he's physically in my presence. It's like he drives away all the inhibition I possess, and that's both good and bad. I don't quite know what to make of it, or him, or me, or us. It's all a pleasant jumble in my head, so achingly new and wonderful even when I know I should be concerned.

Magic is literally buzzing inside of me like a hive of bees, I swear it, and I just want to capture it, put it in a jar and keep it always, for when I am beyond the help of solely fleeting diversions.

I am _so happy _right now, diary. I can't say it enough. James Potter makes me happy. He does. He always has. It just took me a long time to recognize how much so.

I'm too full to write at the moment, or think too hard or do my homework. Screw it all. I'm too full to tell Alice and Livvy, either. I'll tell them later. I'll do the work later. For now, all I want is to lie here, in that balmy, cozy place in the gray matter between sleep and consciousness, my thoughts free to wander, before I return to reality.

I'll write again tomorrow, likely, before and/or after the Quidditch match. For now, I simply want to _be_.

Until later, then.

--

A/N: Did you enjoy that overload of ridiculously cute fluff up there? I certainly hope so, because you're not getting very much of it for the next seven-ish chapters.

We're heading into something much more fun – DRAMA. And no, not all of it will affect this budding relationship. (Not directly, anyway.)

So take a deep breath, be excited, and review on your way out of the browser, guys! Thanks!


	49. I am Caught in the Middle

A/N: Yes, yes, waiting for me to update can really suck, but I've been busy. Homework, activities, blowing up my social life…it's tiring, you know. And I didn't want to give you crap I was shaky on – I'd rather wait until I'm more comfortable and give you crap I'm at least a little invested in. So…that's why I made you wait. Sorry.

But for the next few chapters, I am going to warn you: the reason for the embellished drama might require you to channel your inner Freud a little bit. It's very deeply rooted in the psychology of each characters' psyche (aren't you glad I'm taking Psych this semester?) and you will need to be objective, as well as understanding, to fully appreciate the power-struggle about to be unleashed upon you.

I know it'll be a little hard, having to go into this from the happy, fluffy cloud from last chapter, but drama is more fun and you know it. You're going to be fine.

Cheers!

--

March 8

**10:00 AM**  
_Status_: Floating

You know, I've come to find that it's really quite amazing, the effect a lovely day can have on the next day.

Take this morning, for example. I woke up at the extremely respectable hour of eight, content and refreshed (which _never _happens), some of that happy sparkle from yesterday still sprinkled into my mood like chocolate chips in a cookie. I also couldn't stop smiling.

Taking my sweet time, I got up, got dressed, and lay around in the sunshine for a little while, bits and snatches from yesterday playing in my head – James and I holding hands, me popping chocolate balls into his mouth, James kissing my cheek so sweetly after it was all over.

It was lovely. It was contented. I probably could've stayed there forever, lying on top of my mess of blankets, sunlight kissing my hair and fanning out on my face, nothing to hide from the still air in my room. I was open, vulnerable, happy in a lovely, easy way, and I don't think my body has ever relaxed as long and as well as it did this morning.

It didn't last too long, though. Around eight forty-five, while I was still somewhere in la-la land, the most terrific ruckus ensued outside of my portrait hole. I almost fell off my bed in astonishment. I really need to do something about this coordination problem of mine.

"LILY! LILY, WAKE UP!" hollered Alice's voice. "IT'S ME, ALICE!"

I was so disoriented, I couldn't answer right away. I sat up, rubbing my head, trying to recover, while Alice went right on yelling.

"ME AND LIVVY ARE OUT HERE WAITING FOR YOU!" she informed me. "YOU HAVE A LOT OF EXPLAINING TO DO, YOUNG LADY!"

"Merlin, Alice, I'm awake and you can come in," I mumbled.

"Really?" The tone of her voice changed completely. "Well, in that case…"

"You see, Alice, I told you this was a bad idea," chastised Livvy. "I told you she might be awake…"

"It's before nine," Alice said scornfully. "Don't lie – I know you're as surprised as I am."

"Well, even if she _was _asleep, we ought to wake her up nicely—"

Livvy was attempting to make a very fine point, I must say, but Alice wasn't in the mood to hear it and the portrait opened, revealing both of my friends fully dressed. Alice grinned widely upon seeing me. Livvy, realizing that her battle was already long-lost, joined in the grin and I couldn't help but take the cake in wide grins, because my friends are hilarious and I love them.

"Good morning," I said amiably. "How's it going?"

Alice shook her head impatiently. "I want no part in these preliminaries," she announced dramatically. "I want to know what happened yesterday and I want to know _right bloody now_."

"Oh, Alice, stop being so passive – how will she ever know what you want when you play all these foolish games?" Livvy teased, giving her a nudge in the shoulder.

Alice threw Livvy a filthy look, then refocused on me, as though glaring at Livvy's insubordination put far too much time between the information she so desired. "Lils, tell me _everything_," she said.

I looked from Alice to Livvy and back. Alice's desire was written plainly across her heart-shaped face. She had nothing to hide. Livvy – although sustaining a lot more discretion – shared much the same sentiment, however; she couldn't stop biting her lip, looking at me with her signature eagerness, and I couldn't help but giggle. We were at such a huge milestone here and I wanted nothing more than to share it with them.

So I did. We three settled in on my bed, Alice stealing my last box of birthday chocolates and helping herself while I told them everything. I left nothing out – I took them through everything from meeting in the Entrance Hall to vomiting in The Three Broomsticks to eating chocolate balls to meeting Sarah Emerson to that sweet, final kiss on my cheek at the end of it.

Alice and Livvy were a great audience – Alice held in every single squeal, even when I knew she was bursting under pressure – and they waited until I narrated coming back to my dormitory before launching into discussion.

The first thing the famous drama queen Alice did upon being given a chance to talk was sigh hugely. She was silent a moment, seeming to absorb it all in, and Livvy and I exchanged smirks, wondering what was coming next.

But we didn't wonder long. After a few seconds, Alice smiled her softest smile and said, "Lils…you two are so perfect. You don't even know how much so. I am so happy for you and if you don't go on and continue this relationship, there is something horribly and truly wrong with you."

Livvy petted Alice's knee. "Very nice," she said appreciatively, nodding.

I, on the other hand, blushed bright pink.

"No, I'm dead serious, Lils," said Alice. "You two…I don't even know what to say. I think you guys could really be…it. You could be together for fifty years and still be perfect. You just _work_."

"That's a lot to assume from one date," Livvy pointed out.

"But it's true," Alice insisted. "I mean, they have known each other for six and a half years. Yeah, they got off to a rough start, but I have never seen you like this before. It makes me think that you're on to something. That this person will mean more to you than any other."

"I won't deny that I feel unbelievably happy when we're together," I said, "because I do…but I'm with Livvy on this one. I've been on one date with the guy. I can say we'll definitely give this a go, but I'm not ready to bet on forever."

"You're a romantic, Alice," said Livvy. "But the world isn't. Maybe this date went perfectly…but we can't say anything for the next one. Or the one after that."

"I can't explain how I know," said Alice, "but I do. Trust me. You guys are meant to be. And Lils, I really do believe love is enough to sustain a relationship. Do you love James?"

The two girls looked at me for my answer. I felt my face go warm, my hands begin to quiver, and I have the distinct feeling that I am no longer trotting alongside Alice, but being dragged forward as she sprints down the street.

So I say, "One date is not enough for me to settle the rest of my life. I don't want to answer this question."

Alice sighed, irritated. "Why are you like this?" she asked. "You're so analytical, so 'what if this' and 'how about that.' Let those go, Lils. Love him with everything you've got. Don't hold anything back just because of practicality."

"Again, Alice, you're a romantic," Livvy interjected. "It's easy to say hang practicality and do what you want. But when something happens – which it will – and you crash, everything comes down. It's not cowardly to acknowledge things could go wrong and slow down the pace."

"You and Russell certainly didn't do that," Alice said with a snort.

"Because I made sure I knew the risks involved," said Livvy determinedly. "I weighed out my pros and cons and moved at the pace I wanted – which, incidentally, was the same as Russell's. Lily is different. The pace she wants is obviously slower than the one you're telling her to take and I don't think it's fair that you're attempting to convince her otherwise. It's her relationship, not yours, and I suggest you let her have at it the way she wants."

Alice shook her head. "Lily, I honestly feel that this is the best thing that's ever happened to you. Don't screw this up by being cautious."

"I'm scared," I told her very frankly. "This won't be easy. I need all the smarts I've got on me – because yesterday, Sarah Emerson found us in the village and I know she's probably gone and told everyone by this point. And James has always been the impulsive one, while I am the one that ambles along uncertainly. Circumstances are uneven and I don't want to blow through this without thinking it through."

"All I'm saying is, you've found a boy you love who loves you back," Alice told me. "I don't want you to screw it up."

"And I won't," I said gently. "You will be there every step of the way with me – you always have been. But don't expect me to sprint through every milestone. I won't. I just don't operate like that."

Alice looked troubled, considering for a few moments, clearly irritated by the amount of realism Livvy and I rely upon, but she surprised us both by getting that sweet smile back on her face, looking at us both with genuine tenderness.

"Well, either way, I'm happy for you," she said to me. "You've had a brilliant date and I am sure everything is going to go your way."

I smiled. "Thanks, Alice," I said. "I hope so."

Livvy gave both our hands a little squeeze before checking her watch.

"Hey, I've got to get out to the changing rooms and meet the team for a pre-game pow-wow," she said. "I'm already a little late and James is sure to be ballistic. I'll see you guys at the match, all right?"

"Okay," said Alice. "We'll see you."

"Good luck, Livs!" I called as she ran out of my room.

She spared us a hasty wave as she flew out into the corridor.

After Livvy left, Alice decided to go get some breakfast and I told her I'd see her at the match. It's set to start in about an hour or so – at noon – and I want to get a tiny smidgen of homework done so that it's not all left for tonight. I suspect we're going to win and the parties are not conducive to a healthy working environment, something I'm fully aware of.

I think I'm going to go eat a bite with Alice before we head out to the pitch for good seats. There's nothing wrong with a little sausage in the late morning.

Unless, of course, you're going on a date. But today, that's not the case, so I will gladly eat as much as I please.

Until later then.

**5:00 PM**  
_Status_: Shaken

Oh. My. Word.

So…erm, I'm a little shocked. My breathing still isn't quite right yet. Alice is in her dorm with Livvy right now, trying to give her a pep-talk because she's better at those than I am, and I feel helpless. I don't know what to do. I'm confused. I'm extremely conflicted.

It all started during the Quidditch game this afternoon.

Alice and I walked out to the pitch fifteen minutes before the game and snagged relatively good seats near the top of the stands. Alice was decked out in her usual Gryffindor colors, while I had on only my red and gold scarf. I am not famous for being a die-hard sports fan.

The two of us settled in and shielded our ears against the nippy wind and Frank presently came to join Alice. He said a cheerful hello to me, of course, but he was obviously more interested in Alice and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Alice returned it with a kiss on his mouth and I decided to turn my attention back to the pitch, hoping the match would start soon.

I'm happy for Alice and Frank, don't get me wrong, but being happy for them doesn't translate into watching them snog. It is a bizarre feeling, watching someone you know snog someone else.

Eventually, though, the game did start and Alice forgot all about snogging. She cheered and yelled and stomped and screamed – the usual – and tried to excite me and Frank into doing the same. Frank kind of did, but I didn't. I cheered when we did something good, but that was about it.

Again, I'm not famous for being a die-hard sports fan – which is kind of funny, seeing as Alice (a big fan) and Livvy (an obsessed player) are my best friends and I just went on a date with James Potter (a big fan _and _an obsessed player).

Anyway, the game went on, kind of a blur to my untrained eye. I couldn't tell the players apart too well; because they were speeding around so fast, I couldn't see the color of their robes, let alone their faces. I relied on Alice to point them out for me if I fancied the information. Gryffindor is a superlative team this year, thanks to James's slave-driving, but Hufflepuff wasn't going to give it up easily. Livvy told me the other day that they had a spy sit in on one of their practices once, saw the level of excellence they would have to match, and they trained accordingly – and I have to say, it showed. The match was extremely close.

It really was going okay for much of the time. Gryffindor managed to maintain a ten point lead (which, actually, is one goal – it took me three games into first year to figure that one out) and no one had played dirty yet, although the strain and temptation were almost too obvious.

Livvy gritted her teeth and played quite the warrior, giving no Bludger the opportunity to get anywhere near a Gryffindor player, while James furiously fought tooth-and-nail to assist the next point and the point after that. Russell, being the Seeker, was scanning the pitch and keeping an eye on the other Seeker, to make sure he didn't miss anything.

The atmosphere was tense like taut wire and no one was giving in. I was on the edge of my seat and I'm not even that passionate about Quidditch. I feared Alice would get a heart-attack, the way she was stressing out. Not even Frank could appease her. All we could do was wait and hope for the best – because getting the big fat Quidditch trophy, and the attached glory, was all anyone cared about.

But then, someone made a mistake. Someone lost their guard and the whole thing came undone. And that someone was Russell Burgess.

Thinking on it now, it was difficult to see what really happened, but I'll do my best to narrate it as I remember.

Livvy had flown up towards him because the Hufflepuff Beater – Philip Rogers – had hit the Bludger in that direction. Ferociously, she sent it on a different path, away from her boyfriend; and, on some inexplicable impulse, she kissed him, in the air on her broomstick in the middle of the match.

Russell, being Russell, kissed her back. It was brief, but it was enough to seal their fate. When they broke hastily away, another Bludger came speeding in their direction and Russell reacted instinctively. He slammed the weight of his broomstick and his body into Livvy, pushing her out of the way, and caught her when she nearly fell from the surprise.

While this was happening, though, the Hufflepuff Seeker got a glimpse of the Snitch at last and went for it. Russell realized belatedly what was going on, set Livvy on her way, and zoomed forward as fast as that stick of wood would let him. The two were neck in neck, but Russell was too late and his broom was too slow – the Hufflepuff Seeker reached out his arm and caught the Snitch. The game was over and Gryffindor had lost.

_Gryffindor had lost_.

The teams flew back to the ground and the Gryffindors were beyond horrified, shocked. The Hufflepuffs were ecstatic, heartily congratulating each other and dancing around the pitch. I knew that _we _should have been the ones doing that. Alice had pretty much combusted, unable to bear the shame of losing, and she wasn't speaking. I left her to Frank, who tried futilely to stroke her hair and mollify her. I took off to go find Livvy and Russell.

It wasn't difficult to find them. The Gryffindor team – and many Gryffindors – surrounded them, watching something. I squeezed through all the people, trying to get a glimpse of my best friend – but when I did, I kind of wished I didn't.

James, as the captain, was right in the middle of the mess, firing something off at the top of his voice at Livvy and Russell. Russell was red with emotion and throwing everything James said back in his face, while Livvy cried furious, boiling-hot tears, similarly red. It was a horrible sight.

"I _cannot _believe you two did that!" James was yelling, over and over. "What the _fuck _were you thinking?"

He was livid. He was outside himself with anger. Everything about him was erratic, quivering, and he looked quite mad, unstable. Livvy and Russell were not much better and I could see this was going to go nowhere. Likely against my better judgment, I decided to intervene. I mean, I was the Head Girl – this was my _job._

"Hey! Calm down, break it up here," I said in my most authoritative Head Girl tone, stepping between Livvy, Russell, and James. "Stop shouting."

"Get out of the way, Lily," James dismissed me gruffly, trying to shove me aside, his eyes flashing.

"I certainly shall not and you can't push me," I said, forcing myself to be calm and stop my heart from racing. "I'm the Head Girl."

"And I'm the Head Boy," he growled, though his murderous gaze was still upon his Beater and Seeker.

"But, as you are clearly incapacitated, it's my job to handle this," I said shortly.

At last, he turned to look at me, and his eyes were fire itself. They were wild and irrepressible and raw, familiar to me in a bad way.

It hit me then that this was the James I knew too well. This was the guy that I hated, the one that drove me mad, the one that reared his ugly head in the heat of an argument, rendering me speechless. This was the guy I'd always been afraid to date.

He had always been polite and good and sweet and shy around me this year, but that didn't mean he was always polite and good and sweet and shy. He was still an ardent man and this side of him still existed. How could I have forgotten that?

Willing myself to retain control, I cleared my throat. Besides the Hufflepuffs, everyone was silent.

I said to the crowd, "All right, all right, everyone, keep moving. Players, please go to the showers and spectators, please continue with your business. There's nothing else to see here. Go on, go on."

I shooed them away like the Head Girl I was supposed to be and order was restored. I was left standing there with James, Russell, and Livvy. Livvy had stopped crying, but her eyes were swollen and she was hiccupping softly – distressed but not out of the game yet. Russell was holding her tightly and the red in his face had not subsided. I turned to face the three, my hands on my hips, and I tried to be confident, despite all our personal connections.

"All right," I said. "Now. We are all irritated and disappointed at the moment, which is fine, but it is not conducive to a constructive conversation. So let's please go to the showers, get cleaned up, and sleep on it…maybe you can talk tomorrow…"

"You were out of line!" James interrupted, hollering mostly at Russell and thoroughly ignoring me. "You had _no right_ to kiss her up there! What the hell were you playing at? You're in the middle of a _game _and you're snogging your _girlfriend_—"

"She saved my life!" Russell hollered back, sparing no restraint.

"She has saved your life a million times, but you've _never _done anything as stupid as that!" James retorted. "And Olivia, I don't care how happy you are to see your boyfriend – distractions are unforgivable during a match. It cost us a victory that was in our reach!"

"Don't you _dare _pin this on me, James Potter, don't you _dare_." The tone of Livvy's voice was scary, unreserved and almost guttural with intensity. "It was not our fault."

"It most certainly was!" James yelled.

"You guys…" I tried nervously to get that control back, but it wasn't working this time. The inferno was too great to be contained. I could only watch helplessly as the argument raged on before me.

"_You _went up there to hit the Bludger; _you _kissed Russell; _you _distracted him; and because of that, he had to go play the hero for you, even though you dodge Bludgers _all the bloody time _and therefore couldn't do his _own _job, which was to _win the game_!" James shot at her. "We've worked _so bloody hard _for this match, Olivia! How the hell does that not matter to you?"

"Of course it fucking _matters _to me," Livvy shot right back. "I'm just as upset that we didn't win the match. But we can't do anything about it – we lost and no amount of yelling is going to fix that!"

This hit a soft spot. James's eyes narrowed to mere slits and it was with unprecedented venom in his voice that he said, "We could be out of the running for the Cup now, because of this loss, and I'm not about to sacrifice that thing for you two. This is why I don't like players dating each other on the team! Either break it off, or one of you leave, because I'm not going to throw everyone's damn hard work into the wind like this."

"You are out of line, mate," Russell boomed. "You can't _break us up _over Quidditch! Our relationship has nothing to do with you _or _the match!"

"Just because Russell made one mistake, doesn't mean you have to kick one of us off the team!" Livvy shrieked, mad with horror. "You can't!"

"I have to do _some_thing to protect my team!" James roared. "Do you have any how frustrated our whole house is because of this? Do you have any idea what you've _done _to our chances at the Cup? I have to take action because no one, including myself, will forgive me if I don't."

"Well, get over yourself, because Russell and I are staying together regardless of what you say!" Livvy declared dramatically.

Before James could open his mouth to say something else, I sensed this conversation would now start entering dangerous places, so I cleared my throat and interrupted, "Hey. Stop it, please."

"Lily, I told you, stay out of this," James told me.

"I bloody well will not!" I said impatiently, starting to lose my temper with the haphazard arrogance with which he was trying to push me away.

It was as good as saying, '_Oh, you don't have to be involved with this one, Lily. You're not involved, you're not important enough. You can't do anything. You don't understand Quidditch. Let us figure it out._'

Well, I didn't care how big of a macho Quidditch player he was. I was getting involved whether he liked it or not.

I stepped in front of him and my hands were on my hips. I glared at him with more ferocity than I've harnessed in years.

"James Potter, you will shut up now and go to the showers," I demanded. "This is not the time to be talking about this."

I was _not _fooling around and from the look in his eyes, I think he finally understood that.

Inspired, I turned to Livvy and Russell. "Meet James at the start of lunch in the Entrance Hall tomorrow," I said coolly. "You can talk about it properly then, when you've all had a chance to cool down."

None of the three had anything to say to this, so I figured my work was done. Livvy collapsed into Russell's shoulder, sobbing into his robes, and he held her tightly, protecting her almost, and I could see they needed to be alone. I took a breath and gripped James's forearm, steering him away from the pitch and towards the castle.

He didn't say anything, but he did let me lead him, which was a good sign. I dropped him off at the showers and left without bidding him good-bye. In truth, I was shaking and I was upset.

This was what we had been afraid of from the beginning of Livvy's relationship with Russell – some Quidditch-related disaster that would leave them all angry with each other.

I really didn't know whose side I was on and even now, I'm conflicted. I understood what James's concern was – he wanted to keep things business so nothing would have to get ugly – but I also kind of saw what Livvy was saying. He wasn't involved with their personal relationship and shouldn't bring that into the picture. Mistakes happen and ultimatums aren't fair. But I dunno…James is the captain and he made his policies very clear from the beginning. And Livvy did distract Russell, therefore costing them the game and potentially the Cup.

So who was I supposed to support? My best friend Livvy or my almost-boyfriend James?

I really don't know what I'm supposed to do. All of a sudden, in the course of an afternoon, my life has become even more complicated – if that's even possible. Given James's previous history with Livvy, as well as the complexities of Livvy's relationship with Russell, and the indecisive nature of today's error, as well as their personal beliefs and biases, make this a finely knotted web of dilemmas.

Livvy and James are both right and wrong. But the issue is who is more wrong than the other – and I am not equipped to make that call.

I'm almost afraid to deal with it tonight. Emotions are running high and Gryffindors are wandering around with foul expressions on their faces. I myself am stressed out, wondering if there's some law in the universe that nothing can be as easy as it should be. I feel like I should take my own advice, forget about it now and look at it with a fresh eye tomorrow, but I'm also unwilling to do so because I feel inactive. I feel like I'm not doing enough.

There is a lot at stake here – Livvy's first relationship with even the slightest chance of working out, the Quidditch team James has worked so long and hard to train, even my own relationship with James.

What do you do when all roads lead to a miserable friend and a miserable conscience?

I guess that's a question I'll have to answer tomorrow afternoon.

I wish myself luck…

Until tomorrow.

--

A/N: And here it is. Drama. Finally. The next three chapters will work to make some headway on some of these complexities I mentioned at the end there. But let me tell you…Livvy is not going to come out of this looking very good. And this is only the beginning.

Sorry again for the long wait, I hope it was worth it, and please drop a review on the way out! I hope to update again as soon as possible.


	50. I Watch Strife Get the Best of Us

A/N: This is like the "official" resolution of last chapter's drama, but next chapter is some L/J-ness (discussing their relationship in light of the present drama) and the chapter after is what I like to call "the final straw." But that's all I'll say at the moment.

And remember last chapter, when I told you that you had to be objective and understanding and think about the psyche of the character to get what the hell is going on? Yeah. Well, this is the chapter where you actually have to do that. I'm quite nervous to see how you'll take it.

'Kay. I'm done now. You can read. Hope you like it…

_Great mood music _(for the latter half): The Other Side of the Door, by Taylor Swift; Broken Strings, by James Morrison and Nelly Furtado; What If, by Coldplay.

And epic thanks to _Niki _for her advice and enthusiasm whenever I request it. I love youuuu.

--

March 9

**9:00 AM**  
_Status_: Worried/anxious

For the first time in a long time, I woke up at six thirty this morning, got dressed, and waited for Alice and Livvy to come to my dormitory to talk. Alice and I had planned this last night, agreeing to bring Livvy down for a pep-talk today since she was so distraught yesterday, and I had promised her I'd be awake. And I was.

The girls came in promptly at seven, dressed and somber. There was noticeable physical distance between them when they arrived, making it clear that though Alice had not openly said so, she (like the entirety of our house) had not yet forgiven Livvy for her antics at the match. I knew at once that this wasn't going to be easy.

Wordlessly, I gestured for Alice and Livvy to please take a seat on my bed and wordlessly, they did. They looked to me to lead this discussion and I nervously obliged.

"So…erm…yeah," I said lamely, my courage failing me. "We all know why we're here – we have to figure out what you're going to tell James during lunch today, Livvy."

"There's nothing to tell him," Livvy said, her tone hard. "He can't do this to us. He can't tell me who to date. If anyone on the team had made a mistake yesterday, he wouldn't be throwing this big of a hissy-fit."

"Livvy, you _kissed _Russell in the middle of a _game_," Alice reminded her in a steely voice. "I'm with James on this one. What the hell were you _thinking_? You can't wreck the game like that!"

"Kissing Russell had nothing to do with what happened!" Livvy argued heatedly. "The Bludger was coming after the two of us and he pushed me out of the way. He saved my life and that's why he couldn't get to the Bludger. It wasn't our kiss!"

"Let's go over the scenario without you snogging your boyfriend, shall we?" Alice fired up. "If you hadn't kissed him – if you had just gone up there, hit the Bludger, and went away – you would've been long gone by the time the other Bludger came to you. You would've dodged it or smacked it at some other bugger and been fine. Russell would've seen the Snitch earlier and put up a better fight to catch it. Hence, I am forced to conclude that your idiocy was directly responsible for our loss!"

"You're all looking for a scapegoat," Livvy retorted. "You guys never really liked me and Russell together anyway. This is the perfect opportunity to tell us we shouldn't be together and you're jumping on it."

"Livs, you're talking through your hat," I said impatiently. "Of course we want you to be happy. And the only reason I ever complained was because you wouldn't tell James about it for the longest time. So will you please stop pretending the world is out to get you?"

"Well, you are," sobbed Livvy, tears welling up in her eyes. "You both agree with James and I can tell. You think it's my fault and I should either break up with my boyfriend or leave the Quidditch team."

"You _did _tell James your relationship wouldn't screw with your Quidditch abilities and it did," pointed out Alice grimly.

I threw Alice a murderous look and she subsided. I then turned my attention to Livvy, who looked like she wanted to hide under my bed for the next twenty years.

"Look, Livs, I can see how James feels," I said gently. "Quidditch is important to him and he has to be brave, do what is best for the team. If that means giving you an ultimatum, then…I mean, he's the captain. You can't argue with him."

"It's an impossible choice!" wept Livvy. "I can't leave the team because they need me to do my job, but I can't leave Russell because he's my boyfriend and I love him too much to live without him!"

"Team spirit didn't prevail during the match," interjected Alice bitterly.

"Shove off, Alice, if you can't be constructive," I told her sharply. "But Livvy…honestly…I think maybe you should just…take the choice and leave the team for now."

I could've suggested she drink poison from the look of pure outrage on Livvy's face.

"I can't do that," she said flatly. "I _can't_. I've been part of it this whole year, and he'd have to replace me and that would mess up the team dynamics, and I couldn't…I don't know. I just can't."

"It's a pretty logical thing to do, actually," said Alice. Clearly, the meaning of the phrase 'shove off' was quite lost on her. "I mean, you'd only be missing the final game at the end. And you'd have more time to do your homework – and isn't the most important thing in life?"

Livvy shot Alice a death glare. "No," she said shortly. "I've told you before, I live for you two, Quidditch, and Russell. Asking me to take one of those out of my life is just…I don't even know. It's unthinkable."

"Well, you have to give something up, Livs," I told her. "You did something wrong and there are consequences for every action. You could leave or you could let Russell quit. James did say one of you could leave."

"No," Livvy said instantly. "Out of the question. Russell and I won't leave because no matter what James says, he's proud of our team the way it is and he doesn't want to go through the trouble of training someone completely new to the standard we've already reached. He won't want us to go."

"But he would also take the necessary measures to ensure his team is in its best shape for the final match, so don't underestimate him," Alice warned. "I'm with Lily on this one. Let one of you leave the team. That way, you can still have Russell and you miss minimal Quidditch."

Livvy buried her face in her hands, looking young and tired. She truly didn't know what to do and that kind of baffled me. No, the situation was not ideal, and no, Livvy would not get her perfect balance; but leaving the team would keep the damage minimal and it made sense. Why didn't it make sense to her?

I didn't want to bring this lack of logic up, but far be it from Alice to hold back information to spare someone's feelings.

She instantly seemed to read my thoughts and said, "Livs, you're letting your emotions drive your decisions and that's not right. Be objective and look at this logically. If I was you, I'd figure Russell is more important than a game – since, you know, I love him so much – and I'd leave the team for him. Like I keep telling Lily, you can make things simple and easy if you want to. So do that before someone gets hurt."

"I can't," Livvy burst out. "You two, you don't understand! You don't play Quidditch and you don't know how…how it takes your world over! How it makes you feel! Yeah, okay, I kind of messed up yesterday – but Quidditch still means the world to me and I can't let it slip away from me! Not being on the pitch…I would die. I _need_ to play."

"Well, then Russell can—"

"Russell is the best Seeker we've had in a long time and James would be an idiot to make him leave," Livvy said fiercely. "This is the only time he's ever screwed up in the history of his playing. He's made catches his reserve will never make in his wildest dreams. James won't let him go. He'd be an idiot if he did."

"Livvy, you are being utterly inflexible and that makes me nervous," I said very frankly. "Love, you can't expect everything to go your way. You have to be willing to give. Work with me here. The choice is straightforward – you can either have Russell or Quidditch and I think you should focus on Russell. He's fantastic and he loves you and you'd be a fool to let him go."

"Have you even talked this over with him yet?" Alice inquired. "I mean, isn't this as much his decision as yours?"

"I know Russell," said Livvy dismissively. "He's going to be fine with whatever I do. I'll handle this and get us back both our places and our relationship."

"And if James doesn't agree?" I prompted.

Livvy considered. "That's not an option," she said finally. "We are going to make this work. James will simply have to live with it."

Alice and I exchanged exasperated looks. It was becoming quite clear that Livvy was losing it. I knew James as well as anyone and he wasn't about to take Livvy's answer lying down. He was passionate about his team and to him, merely punishing them was kind. He had made it abundantly clear that off-pitch drama should not affect the team's game-play…

But, quite obviously, this conversation was going nowhere. Livvy wasn't ready to listen to reason and there was nothing the two of us could do about it. We quietly gave up on Livvy and took her down for breakfast, changing the subject to other inane, irrelevant things in an attempt to divert her mind. It worked pretty well. Livvy ate her breakfast, talked animatedly about Potions, and came with us here to Charms, as though nothing had happened.

I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing. Just thinking about the next couple of hours and what they could do to our social dynamic is making my stomach twist with anticipation. I don't want lunch time to come. The balance is too fragile.

I see Livvy now, sitting there, taking notes and seeming so innocent, so normal. She doesn't look like the girl that screwed up the Quidditch match, the girl whose relationship with Russell is potentially in danger, the girl James would likely slaughter if his morals weren't so solid.

I don't want anything bad to happen to her. I'm scared for her. I'll write about the lunch ordeal during History of Magic today.

I wish all of us luck today. I have that sick, sinking feeling in my gut that tells me we're going to need it.

**1:00 PM**  
_Status_: Horrified

You know how I said I was nervous and needed all the luck I could get?

Well…I was on to something there when I said that. Because we did need all the luck we could get; and what we did get wasn't nearly enough. Fortunately, though, we are not learning about anything particularly interesting in History of Magic today, so I can try to rid myself of some of this shakiness, calm myself down and write about it.

Here's how it all went down.

After Herbology – the class we have just before lunch – Livvy, Alice, and I made our game plan on the steps leading to the front door. Alice claimed that this would turn out ugly no matter how optimistic we were and she didn't want to be a part of the whole thing. Secretly, I agreed with her, but Livvy was afraid to go alone and all but begged me to go with her.

Against my better judgment, I said yes, and our group split accordingly. Livvy squeezed my hand tightly as we walked into the Entrance Hall and I hoped, for her sake, that things would go okay.

When we came inside, we found James and Russell already waiting for us. Russell's expression was cold, his physical and emotional distance from James almost as rife as Livvy and Alice's; but James was exactly the same, cool and emotionless and halfway gone. Livvy didn't even look at him as she let my hand go, running at Russell and hugging him. I felt the tiniest bit useless, standing there like a third wheel while Livvy cuddled Russell.

"Lily, you don't have to be here for this," James told me. "My issues lie with Olivia and Russell alone."

"Livvy wanted me along," I said by way of explanation.

James glanced at Livvy, who was whispering something very fast to Russell, and I could just tell that he understood how I was feeling. However, he said nothing more on the matter. He just nodded and promptly ignored me.

"Right. Well…" He cleared his throat to get Livvy and Russell's attention and said, "So you guys know what's going on here. I told you yesterday that you can have either your place on the team or your relationship. What have you decided to do?"

"We're doing neither," Livvy declares before Russell can open his mouth, her arms still around his neck. "We are staying together and we're staying on the team. Nothing like yesterday is going to happen again. We swear."

"That's the point," said James testily. "Nothing like yesterday will happen again because I am going to make sure neither of you is distracted in the final – if we even get there, by some miracle."

"Look, it wasn't Ollie's fault," Russell shot at James, his tone steely. "What happened up there was a freak accident and it's not the norm."

"You _kissed _up there," James reminded him, his tone equally steely. "That was not a freak accident. That contributed to the freak accident, which lost us the game, and I'm not about to take a chance. You went behind my back to date in the fall and even when I caught you snogging like a pair of eels on Valentine's Day, I let you stay together so long as it didn't affect your Quidditch. But it did and my trust in you has broken. Your word isn't enough anymore and you will need to make a decision."

"Telling us to leave the team won't change how we feel about each other," said Livvy fiercely.

"I never expected it to," said James coolly. "You can do whatever the hell you want with each other. Just leave it off the pitch."

"You've trained this team with me and Russell all year – you can't get rid of someone and expect to be in tip-top condition for the match," Livvy said.

"I've got back-ups," said James. "I talked to your reserves, Thomas Blake and Katie Volarie, yesterday after the match. They are ready to go and bursting for a chance to play. They want this more than anything – that's commitment I can work with. I don't mind kicking one or both of you off if that means I can sleep easy the night before the match."

"James, you can't—"

"Don't tell me what I can or can't do," James interrupted Livvy starkly, fire in his eyes. "You made a serious violation. You can't expect to get away with it."

"You're blowing this whole thing out of proportion!" Russell exploded. "We made a mistake! We lost the game! Yes, we know, it's bad and we feel really horrible about it – but you can't expect that this is going to make everything better! You can't possibly think that by punishing us, you're doing the team a favor!"

"I have to do what is necessary, and if that means making the painful decision to trespass into your discomfort zone, I will," James said, intense and almost kind of nasty. "So tell me, what's it going to be? Relationship or team?"

Livvy gave Russell a panicked look and I could see the same alarm in his eyes. It had come down to this ultimatum – no matter how fair or unfair it was – and neither of them had anticipated having to actually make what had to be an extremely claustrophobic decision. They were happy coasting, cuddling, being happy; and in the face of conflict, I could see fault lines beginning to form.

And all I could do, standing there mutely and watching, was hope that we could get out of this without an earthquake.

"Russ…I don't want to leave the team," Livvy told him, facing away from James and I to look her boyfriend square in the face. "I really don't."

"Neither do I, Ollie, but I'll leave for you," he said determinedly, holding her arms and kissing her head. "If push comes to shove, you mean more to me than Quidditch does. I love you."

Livvy kissed him softly on his lips. "I love you too, Russ," she said quietly. "I love you more than I love myself. You're…too good for me."

"I've always thought you were too good for me," said Russell with a crooked little smirk. "I'd rather stay with you than play in the final. If you want to keep playing Quidditch, then I'll go. Katie Volarie can take over for me."

"I don't want you to leave the team," Livvy said, her voice strained. "We've worked too hard. I want us to play in the final together. I want everything to be the same."

"James doesn't want it to be," Russell told her. "And…yeah, he sucks balls for that, but he's not changing his mind and I'm certainly not going to break it off with you. So…one of us can leave."

"We can't damage our chances like that," insisted Livvy, squeezing her eyes shut. "We can't, Russ, we've worked too hard. I don't want to screw up the team dynamics and train some newbie to be as good as we've wanted to be all year. I don't want that to go to waste. You can't leave and neither can I."

"So, what, do you want us to break up over this?" He passed this off as ludicrous. He was chuckling as he said it, incredulous that he would have to extrapolate this from Livvy's words even as a joke. He couldn't see a reality in which he and Livvy weren't together; and when the look on Livvy's face didn't change, his eyes widened in absolute horror.

"Ollie…!"

"It's only three months," Livvy practically begged. "We can…I dunno, we can play, and not be couple-y, and be okay again once the final match is over. Three months isn't a long time…and how I feel about you won't change…"

"Ollie, I'm sorry, but I'm not up for sale like that," Russell informed her sternly, taking his hand out of her hair and looking at her with eyes too distressed and betrayed to be comfortable. "I can't sit there and wait for things to be convenient for you. I'm willing to give up this game for you. I care about you. Why do I get the feeling that I'm second-best to Quidditch?"

"We've worked too hard!" Livvy cried. "That team…we're like a family o-or something! We can't let the final happen without being there! We can't…screw this up and leave!"

"So you'd rather screw us up?" Russell's voice was rising alarmingly. I had never seen him agitated before, least of all at Livvy, who reaped the most benefits from his easy-going, sunshine-and-butterflies personality.

"Russ, you have to understand how much you and Quidditch mean to me," she said, tears falling freely down her cheeks now.

**2:05 PM**  
_Status_: Still horrified

(continued from last period)

James and I seemed to have melted away from her, leaving there with eyes and ears and heart for Russell alone. It made me uncomfortable to see Livvy so passionately ruining her life, to see her crying and holding Russell like he was everything when she was actually trying to distance him, and my heart broke for her. Why was she making this so complicated?

"Ollie, I know you love Quidditch," he said. "But James is captain and he would kick us both off if he had to; you heard him say so yourself. So to avoid something nasty in which we are both miserable, let's take the deal. Let's not make any more drama. Let me leave the team, since I know you don't want to, and we can be together, you and me. No one can touch us."

Livvy was torn. She was _really _torn. Russell had laid it all out for her, his earnest puppy eyes on top like a big red bow. But Russell didn't know Livvy like I did and he didn't know that Livvy would rather die than change the Quidditch team she loved. She wanted them to win with every fiber of her being. Quidditch was too deeply ingrained in her body and soul and she couldn't take that deal, no matter how easy it sounded to someone like, say, me.

Another tear fell down Livvy's cheek. "I…can't let you do that."

"Look, I've made room for the fact that Quidditch is important to you here," Russell said, his expression becoming progressively more impatient. "But Ollie…if you're suggesting we break up over something as stupid and trivial as this…"

"It's not stupid and trivial!" Livvy exploded. "I love you, Russell, and I love Quidditch! I need you both in different but equal ways, no matter how irrational you think I am! I can keep you, but I can't keep Quidditch, and I have to do what I can to…to make this as right as I can…"

"Darling, if you want me to respect your decisions, you have to respect mine in return," he told her sternly, firmly, in that no-rubbish tone of his. "You just told me that you love me more than you love yourself. How can I believe that when you won't let me be with you?"

"I'm not big enough to follow through on either count," said Livvy, wiping her eyes only to make space for her hot, fast tears. "I don't want you to be stuck with a person as dreadfully indecisive as me. I can't do this. I can't."

"Ollie…"

"Please just break up with me," she wailed dramatically. "Russ, I don't deserve you! There's the truth of it. I want two things and I don't know what to do. You're willing to give up your spot on the team and that's the nicest thing anyone's ever offered to do for me. But I can't let you do it, because I'm not willing to do it for you and the team would sink without you. I'm not good enough to be your girlfriend and I'm not strong enough to live without Quidditch. We're…not going to work this out. I'm doing you a favor and you have to understand that."

Russell's expression was akin to being smacked in the face with a Beater's bat. Even I was horrified and shocked. The gasoline had been spilled all throughout this miserable conversation, but now Livvy was lighting it and Russell was being forced to watch the flames consume her. Even James was stunned – because I don't think he actually meant to break them up, despite all his tough talk.

"You're talking madness, Ollie," he said, shaking her shoulders. "No. You're beautiful and wonderful and you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Don't say things like that."

"I can't."

Livvy was practically choking from the weight of her emotion – she looked like she might be sick – and her face was vividly red, her cheeks completely soaked. Russell tried to grab her, hold her, shake her again, but she didn't let him. Using the agility she had gained during all those months of practice, she expertly avoided Russell and tore up the stairs, her sobs audible even when she sprinted in the direction of the stairs.

I had the distinct feeling that Russell or I should go up there and follow her, but the two of us were too astonished to move. Even James was standing there, petrified and silent, not even attempting to meet my eyes.

We were pin-drop silent for a few eternally-long seconds, but then Russell woke up with a vengeance, this time at James.

"There, are you happy?" he bellowed. "She broke it off! It's over! All because you felt like playing God and messing with our heads over a goddamn Quidditch game!"

"Russell—"

"No!" Russell's tempest was building and could not be paused for trifling things like James's defenses. "You screwed this up! You gave her a choice you knew she wouldn't want to take and now…"

His voice broke and I wanted to hug him. I really did. He was distressed and projecting and overflowing with emotion. He was about ready to hit James right now, even though I was almost sure he wouldn't.

"Russell—" This time, James's tone was gentler, but Russell wasn't listening.

"I'll see you at practice," he mumbled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

Then he, too, fled up the stairs, heading in the opposite direction Livvy had gone. I half-hoped he would corner her in Gryffindor Tower, throw his little pebbles and scream that he was in love with her, maybe talk some sense into her; but Russell didn't know Livvy well enough to discern that damage was reversible if he ran to her quickly enough, loved her hard enough. He thought her decision was set in stone and there lay a problem. How could he let her hurt him and run away like that, if he wasn't even going to try and make it better?

Russell's departure left James and me alone in the Entrance Hall, standing a few meters apart. We were, again, silent, and I felt sick to my stomach. The full extent of this blow-up had not quite reached my head (it still hasn't, come to think of it) and any appetite I'd had before this little scene had already evaporated. I was just plain sad.

I looked at James and I found he was also looking at me, as though trying to size me up. Catching those hazel eyes of his somehow made me feel sicker. All I could think of was how they stared Livvy and Russell down, how they looked after the game compared with how they looked when he was around me. I felt like I didn't know him. Somehow, he had disappointed me, and I didn't know why or how that could be.

I chewed on my lip and turned for the stairs without a word.

James was concerned – I could see him reaching out to me as Russell had reached for Livvy – but I did what Livvy did.

I let his fingers catch air and walked away, up the stairs and down the corridor, towards Livvy's dormitory, feeling like I was walking through a dream. I didn't convince her to come out – she wouldn't open the door and I could hear things being thrown around inside the room – so I gave her space and went to lunch. I filled Alice in on the events of the past few minutes and the two of us fell into quiet, wondering what the hell was going to happen next.

To be honest, I _don't _know what's going to happen next. We're certainly not going to bother Livvy tonight – she's in too much of a state – but what do we do when she calms down? What do we say, what do we do about Russell? There's a lot of pain flying around and if we're not careful, we could make it worse.

But for now, I have come to the conclusion that my life is far too complicated for the good of my health. I'm going to tell James to take patrol himself tonight and I'm going to get a decent night's sleep. Homework is not an option.

I'll write again once I make a little more sense out of my world.

Until later, then.

--

A/N: See? I told you it was dramatic.

To recap: The reason Livvy wouldn't let Russell leave was because she was convinced the team wouldn't win without both of them there – which has some truth to it, because they've trained so hard together all year. She wanted to keep both Russell and Quidditch and wasn't sure what evened out what. That scared her and her way of dealing with it was to break up with Russell, because she could get him back but she couldn't get back on the team.

Rational? No, she's not. But that's what her voice in my head told me to do, so I did it. (And yes, I'm mildly schizophrenic when it comes to my writing.)

Sound off below…


	51. I Take a Baby Step Forward

A/N: This should make you happy. It's like the calm before the storm finishes up. Then the storm finishes…then we come back to a storyline that I put on the back-burner for a little while…then we reach to a milestone you will be thrilled with…and then drama bigger than anything I've thrown at you yet will rock your world. It's _really _fun.

That reminds me…I need to finish outlining the ending of this story. I have no idea what I'm doing past Chapter 61. Eek!

But, for now, content yourselves out here. Like I said, it should make you happy.

Cheers!

--

March 14

**11:00 AM**  
_Status_: Listless

Today is Friday, which marks the first school-week since Livvy and Russell broke up in the Entrance Hall. And to tell you the truth, it's been a pretty damn horrible week.

On the surface, it seems like things have evened out. James discovered Gryffindor was indeed going to the finals – by an _extremely _narrow margin – and in honor of this relief, he let his team off of practice for two weeks. Life is continuing on in its own way, homework is being doled out in huge chunks, and I am patrolling every night. Everything seems all right.

But it's just…not.

Livvy is quiet and withdrawn. After her tantrum on Monday during lunch, she has become something of a robot. She won't say anything unless she's asked a direct question. She spends most of her time staring blankly out of the window, not speaking, not moving. She will only finish her homework if Alice and I gently coerce her into doing it. In all figurative senses of the word, Livvy is gone and I can barely sympathize because it's her own fault.

Russell, now Livvy's ex-boyfriend, is much the same. During the day, he barely looks up from the papers on his desk. He won't talk either. He also hasn't shaved in a few days, giving him a worn, tired, scruffy sort of appearance. He's pale, like Livvy, and the two of them are a pair of lonely, depressed ghosts, so the same in their methods of grieving. It frustrates me that they won't try to get back together.

Their silence is affecting more than each other. Alice and I are quieter, unsure of how normal to keep conversation when Livvy coasts along beside us, looking like she's been drowned. I almost want to avoid Livvy, let her drift away from me and Alice and stop bringing our mood down, but that's absolutely horrible of me and I shouldn't have even penned it in this diary.

Messed up or not, Livvy is our friend. If Alice and I aren't on her side, who will be?

But _still_. It's frightfully gloomy being friends with someone who makes Moaning Myrtle look like the picture of health and happiness.

My days have been plodding along like a tired old woman this week, Livvy's misery coupled with my overabundance of homework bringing me down, and I dunno. I just wish something would happen, something that would light up my sky and make things somewhat okay again. I hate this calm, this lack of true resolution, the idea that we must all let our lives hang in prim serenity as Livvy wallows in her desolation.

Alice has started hanging around with Frank more and more. I'm prone to long spells of silence when I shouldn't be. Even patrolling with James, one of my best friends, has turned into a punishment, an hour or so of being quiet and avoiding his eyes, like I did when I wasn't sure if I was romantically interested him or not. I don't know what to say to him, since he played such a role in Livvy's fall from grace, and for that I remain mute. It's pathetic.

This is why I hate drama. This is why I hate having a social life. Because then something inevitably happens, as Livvy always loved pointing out, and then the dynamic changes. Someone is miserable and you are miserable with them and for them. You can't help it, you just are, and it's terrible.

Last week, I was riding on the sparkles of going on my first date with James. Now I'm barely speaking to him. Clearly, I am not meant for any type of plausible happiness at the moment.

Why, Livvy, did you have to snog Russell in the middle of that match and make everything so damn complicated?

**11:00 PM**  
_Status_: Breathless

You know, life is a funny, funny thing.

The moment I said I needed something exciting to break this hideous lull of grayness, I was given tonight. And tonight was a little bit more than I had bargained for.

Allow me to explain.

Patrol was as quiet as ever tonight, meandering through the corridors with little happening between us, and I was absently going through my steadily growing to-do list, wondering what else had to be done tonight.

It was when I was trying to remember if I washed my hair or not last night that James spoke to me for the first time since Monday.

"Hey," he said.

I was so busy running my hand through my hair, pondering its greasiness, that I didn't hear him the first time.

"Hello, Lily?" he tried again.

Thankfully, I snapped out of it this time, my hand out of my hair to my side, and I stupidly inquired, "What? I mean, yes?"

"This always seems to happen to us," he remarked distantly.

"What do you mean?" I felt like quite a stupid arse and I could only hope he didn't agree with this opinion – although it would make sense if he did.

"I just mean…we do this silence thing a lot," said James. "We go days without talking and I'm not entirely sure why."

I colored sufficiently pink. "I dunno," I said honestly. "I just…there's nothing to say."

"With that, I can only conclude that you're still angry with me for the whole Quidditch ordeal," he said.

"Not angry, per se, but definitely disappointed," I said. "I mean, you could say whatever you wanted and make as many ultimatums as you fancied; but in the end, I was the one who had to sit there and clean up the mess you made. And by mess, I mean Livvy, who hasn't stopped looking like a hen in the rain since Monday."

I didn't mean it, but a fair amount of resentment crept up in my tone, and I realized only after I finished speaking that I sounded kind of accusatory. But I found that I wasn't sorry, because James should know how I feel about his decisions. We're friends now and what he does matters to me. Particularly when it involves one of my best friends.

He fell quiet for several seconds, somewhat lukewarm and frustrated as he attempted to formulate his thoughts. We continued to walk along and my heartbeat picked up just a little bit in anticipation. Luckily, he didn't keep me waiting nearly as long as I have in the past.

"Look," he said, slowly and deliberately, "you have to understand that what I did, I did for the best."

"How was it for the best?" I couldn't help but interrupt. "You gave them a choice you knew would work out dismally. Maybe you have your team intact, but two of your players are miserable and not speaking to each other. How are you any better off?"

"You don't know the game and you don't know Olivia and Russell when they're playing it," James told me flatly. "They might be angry with me, but their love of the game outweighs the anger. They need Quidditch. They will play just fine."

"That's a lot to bank on, when you managed to get in the finals by the skin of your teeth," I pointed out.

"Lily, my team was in danger and I had to do something to save it," James said, an edge to his voice now. "Now, I know some feelings have been hurt, and I know that Olivia is your friend, but being upset with me is not going to change it. She chose to break up with Russell by herself – I didn't tell her she had to do that. She could've made it easy, but she didn't. You can't blame me for that."

Maybe it was the fact that some of these exact thoughts had been floating around in my head all week, or maybe it was simply that the facts were terribly unpleasant; either way, I scowled quite darkly at James, not yet appeased.

"I can't possibly agree with you on this one," I said. "Livvy is my best friend and I'm loyal to her cause."

"Their relationship was already falling apart," James informed me. "I'm sorry, but that was the reality. On the pitch, they'd flirt just fine, but they've never been on the same page. Olivia is a romantic and likes the physical stuff – holding hands, kissing, the works. Russell wasn't really sure how he loved her, he just did. When you put two such people together, you're not going to get a lasting, fulfilling relationship. Maybe they looked okay, but conflict has the amazing ability to bring out all the fault lines you never thought you had. So it's them, not me."

That stung. I don't know why – he wasn't talking about me or anything – but it hurt me all the same. He sounded so sure of himself, like he knew Livvy and Russell better than I did, and I felt instantly protective of her.

"Livvy loves Russell," I said. "She's not generally into relationships and the stuff that comes along with it, so it's harder for her. But she really found something in Russell and he made her happy."

"I know Olivia," said James patiently. "You're her friend and she probably acts differently around you. But she's the kind of girl that goes for theory, not substance. It wasn't my fault they broke up. It was theirs."

"But you didn't help," I said.

"Do you think life is going to treat them kindly when they're out of here?" James's tone was frank, rather hard and business-like. "The world is not a butterflies-and-sunshine type of place. Things will constantly test them and if they can't handle that reality, they don't deserve to be together."

"No matter what, Livvy is my friend and I can't stand to see her so miserable," I said.

"So take it up with her and Russell," he suggested. "Don't put it all on me. It was not my issue and what's done is done. I couldn't change it even if I wanted to."

I sighed, but I didn't respond. This was likely because in my heart of hearts, I knew he was right, but my loyalty to Livvy prevented me from taking the side I normally would. No, that's not a great thing, but I think everyone has friends like that – where you're willing to challenge logical rationality if it means clearing their name.

But, considering everything, I decided it was no longer a subject worth pursuing, so I kept my mouth shut. We continued walking in an atmosphere of cool calm.

After a while, James asked, "So…that's it? We're right back to the silent treatment?"

"Merlin, James, no!" Now it was my turn to be impatient. "I swear, you are the insecure little girl in this relationship. Just because I'm not saying anything, doesn't mean I'm mad at you or will never speak to you again. It just means I don't have anything to say."

"You can be unpredictable," said James, unashamed. "I'd rather ask you up front than let us shrivel up through miscommunication, you know?"

I shrugged. "I guess. But don't freak out."

"I still get the feeling that you're mad at me."

"I'm not exactly ready to clap you on the back and give you flowers for a job well done, if that's what you're going for," I said. "Regardless of your reasoning, the result is that both Livvy and Russell are miserable and they blame you. And I kind of do too."

He stopped our walking and looked me in the eyes before he spoke again.

"Lily, do you care about me?" he asked, completely lucid and blunt.

I was startled. "Yes, of course I do," I said, though my cheeks still betrayed significant splashes of pink.

"So then what's the problem?" he went on. "This was an ugly situation no matter how you look at it and it's over now. It's done. Being bitter will not bring them back together. And my feelings for you are the same as they were on Saturday."

Again, my cheeks went pinker, but James didn't seem to notice.

"Lily, I really like you," he said frankly. "Being with you makes me happy and I've had a lot of time to think about that Saturday afternoon. Our date was the most hilarious, wonderful, earth-shatteringly amazing date I've ever been on. I hate where we've been all week."

His hand loitered close to mine, like it wanted to hold me but wasn't sure if it should.

"I want to go out again," he said, his tone soft and his eyes smoldering prettily. "I want to be in a relationship with you. I want us to…I dunno, just be together."

"James…" I felt myself going fragile, my sturdy skin turning into thin china, ready to fall and shatter with one accidental gust of wind.

He took a step closer towards me and gently stroked a strand of my hair. Chills electrified my scalp and tingled through the entirety of my being.

"You want to take a walk around the lake with me this weekend?" he asked.

It's amazing how a beseeching set of features on a handsome young man's face can somehow obliterate any semblances of doubt in a girl's chest.

"If I don't have too much homework," I said shyly.

"Okay," he said.

We continued to stand there, my eyes fixed on something beyond his shoulder and his eyes fixed on my collarbone. He smelled sharply sweet, his scent indescribable but distinctively his, and I wanted to bottle it up and run away with it. But telling him that would be awkward and probably a little creepy.

What he ended up doing was far more romantic. His wandering hand found mine at last and he held it gingerly, hesitantly, until I grasped his more firmly. Then I felt his confidence boost and our gazes edged until we were looking each other in the eyes. Somehow he was even closer, his face so near mine, his lips close enough to kiss…

Time for a full confession here. I've wondered how it might be to kiss the famous James Potter. I mean, he's pretty much a kissing legend among the girls he's dated casually through the years.

Plus, I mean, he's grown up quite nicely, from a physical perspective. He hasn't got any deformities, like short legs or an extra three hundred pounds, and his features are cute. He looks both lanky and muscular, an odd but appealing trait. He also happens to be just enough taller than me that kissing him would be a little swoop upward, not much effort at all.

Sometimes, amorous images roll, with us snogging in a side alcove because I'm curious to know how it would feel. But other times, I am mortified by the idea that I've contemplated kissing him, and I shut my romantic side up with a bag of mental cookies, because that's a scary and faraway thought.

But tonight, it was not such a faraway thought. Tonight, it felt like the opportunity was chasing me, starting to touch the tips of my hair, breathe down the skin of my neck. He was close enough to do it, our hands intertwined and his mouth slack, lips mere centimeters away from mine. I felt acutely that my body wanted me to do it, blood rushing through my ears and my face.

However, in reality, we did not kiss. As we stood there, wondering if something would happen, I glanced down at my watch and whispered (so as not to _completely _murder the mood), "Patrol's over."

It took these words to finally wake James up, making him start and pull away from me, our hands disentangling and settling back at our sides.

"Right, right," he said at once. "Okay. Let's go."

So we did – we left patrolling for the night (five minutes early – I lied and James doesn't have a watch to check) and arrived at our portrait holes. I wished him a good night and he wished me one too, leaving me to come in here and collapse on my bed, still dizzy and wondrous concerning our latest conversation.

Lately, things have been moving along for James and I – not swiftly, not dramatically, but still moving. This movement has been scaring me; because despite the fact that I know I'm ready, and everything will be fine, the very idea of the movement is funny to me.

I know the theory and I know the potential effects and I know how it's supposed to happen. But when you're actually in the situation – when you're actually the one being pulled along for the ride – it feels different. It feels odd. It feels like it should be harder than this, or maybe easier than this, and you're just doing something wrong.

There's no doubt that I like and am attracted to James. That's a given because I am. But the mere idea of it – me liking and being attracted to _James Potter _– will never stop tasting funny on my tongue.

Never in my entire life did I think such a thing would happen. Never did I think we'd be Heads, then friends, then…whatever we are now. Never did I think he could be who he turned out to be and never did I think I would be the person I turned out to be. It was never supposed to be like this.

In a way, we're almost like two different stories whose plots got conglomerated together. It's like we were the boy and girl who squabbled constantly and didn't know how to get along – who were supposed to endure each other and then fall out of each other's lives once graduation hit – but we were also the classic boy-meets-girl love story. This year, I got to meet him as a regular girl and he met me as a regular boy and we let our story unfold, sweet and bumbling and unsteady as it was.

My first question has always been, how and why is this so? But only now do I realize that it's because we're not a classic story. We're not a fairytale. We're people, human beings, and we change. Life isn't going to be what it should be, not ever, because there are too many layers for that, too many details that come into play at just the right moment.

Maybe this was meant to be and maybe it wasn't. But either way, I know my feelings are strong and James has always proven he has the capacity to shake up my world. I guess it's time to shut up and stop questioning and let this go where it may. I guess the next time it feels like we might kiss, I should work up the courage to try it.

I'm too full of emotion to write at the moment. It's late and I'm tired and I have a walk around the lake with James to look forward to tomorrow. My social landscape is certainly not the same as it was even last week, but I think that's okay.

Livvy will get her head out of her arse and get back with Russell eventually. I will slowly make my way down this winding path of potential love to see where upon it I belong. Alice will attempt to make sense of us both as she feels out her happily-ever-after with Frank. I think everything is going to be okay.

Or, at least, that's what I tell myself – because it's better than the alternative.

I shall write again after I come back from my walk. Until tomorrow, then!

--

A/N: Don't get too excited about that walk. We're not done with our drama yet. But never fear - kisses and walks and happiness will follow. Soon. I promise.

Please remember to review on your way out of the browser!


	52. I am Caught in a Storm This Time

A/N: Erm…well…this is not as happy a chapter as the last one, with the declarations of love and being okay again. But I'd start getting used to drama. I'm very poorly trying to transition us into something a little bit darker in order to make room for the big drama I'm planning. So bear with me. These fault lines are for the best.

Also – if I take maybe a week or more to update a chapter, it's likely because a) I've got a lot of homework, b) I'm putting it off because my mood is wrong, or c) I'm writing my start-of-2010 fic. I'm just letting you know so I can do whatever I want and not have to explain myself.

Cheers, you lot. Good luck in there.

--

March 16

**6:00 PM**  
_Status_: Shaking

Oh Merlin.

I've rarely felt like this before. I'm quaking, blood rushing through my ears and through my face, and sitting down is a relief because my legs are made out of jello. I'm distraught; I'm upset; I'm betrayed; and I'm hurt. I must be somewhere near the bottom – that's how terrible I feel.

Why?

The reason is simple: _Livvy_.

See, today, I fulfilled James's request from the other night and we went on a walk together around the Black Lake. It was nice, it was easy, the two of us taking on what felt like an extra patrol outdoors – we walked and we talked and we laughed. The conversation was light, nothing groundbreaking, and really, it felt like any other moment, any other time.

The only thing that was different about _this _moment and _this _time, however, was merely that…well…we were touching more.

No, no, it's nothing gross or pushy or uncomfortable, no, nothing like that. It's just little things – like nudging shoulders, or holding hands, him stroking my hair or me trying to neaten his. We've always hugged and shoved each other playfully, that's nothing new, but it takes on a different context when you realize what we're doing here.

We're _together _now. We are linked inexorably, him to me and me to him, and what we do from here on out will affect the other. It's the strangest thing to think about – because I mean, me and Alice are the same way, but there's so much more formality when you consider a boyfriend.

He could be forever, that boy. He's your best friend, but he's also a partner who could potentially mean the world, a person who hugs you, kisses you, maybe has sex with you somewhere in the future.

It's a commitment and I'm actually on that very real path, on the verge of meaning the world to him.

Of course, this sort of thing has happened before. I'm not without the usual palette of crap ex-boyfriends, nor am I a virgin. I've been on this path several times before. I've loved and been loved in return. But this is different, because James does nothing halfway. He told me once that when it comes to relationships, he wants all or nothing, and I have a hard time believing he will be nothing to me. So now I'm faced with the prospect of 'all' and I swear, he makes me feel like nobody in the world does.

Somehow, I know we're going to be together a long time; and that makes me feel unsteady in a startling but magnificent way.

My head and heart were full with this hard-hitting lightness when I came back inside the castle. I couldn't stop smiling. He put me in the kind of mood where I wanted to fly and twirl and giggle and sing and be a stupid little girl, because I liked him and he liked me and it's fabulous in a chaotic, mad, wonderful sort of way. He made me crazy and today, I liked that.

Hoping to share some of my sunshine with my friends, I sauntered into the common room to find Alice and Livvy. It didn't take long to find them – they were lounging about in the dormitory, Livvy reading and Alice consuming a mountain of candy. They both looked up in surprise to see me.

"Hey, where have you been?" asked Livvy.

"That's what I came to tell you about," I said with my eternal grin in place, sitting on Alice's bed and facing both my interested friends.

Catching the sensational nature of my expression, Alice said, "Do tell."

"Well…I was out," I said. "With _James_."

"Ooh!" Alice's candy mountain was instantly forgotten. "Really?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed, for once as excited as Alice. "He asked me yesterday, during patrol, for something of a follow-up date…but as our next Hogsmeade visit isn't for, like, a week, we decided to walk around the lake."

"My word! A follow-up date!" Alice's hand flew to her forehead in her usual dramatic style, her eyes practically bugging out of her face. "But…but…but that means…"

"That we're pretty much in a relationship, yes," I confirmed, a feverish blush coming to my cheeks. "He asked me out for that weekend as well."

"Lily, oh my goodness, I'm incredibly proud of you – and incredibly pleased for you! This is beyond amazing and I'm thrilled, couldn't be more so if I tried!" Alice shrieked, coming forward and hugging me to her chest, whiffs of chocolate hitting my nose as her warmth seeped in my skin. "You're James Potter's girlfriend! Good Lord, _finally_! It took you long enough!"

"I can barely believe it either!" I couldn't stop beaming. I was excited for myself, but also excited by Alice's excitement. She was so alive with elation for me. It felt so good to share this with her. It felt so good to know that she was supportive of me. I had sort of figured she would be, because she's hoped for this day since second year, but that didn't diminish the value of her happiness, her singular joy in being there for me.

But, as I basked in Alice's animation, I noticed that Livvy had not spoken a word since I announced my date with James. In fact, as my gaze turned to her, her expression was strange, almost bitter and angry, although the feelings were tightly repressed.

"Hey, Livs, are you all right?" I inquired.

Upon my direct question, she snapped out of it, hastily rearranging her features into some semblance of normalcy.

"Yes, yes, of course – why wouldn't I be?" she answered briskly, going back to her book and refusing to catch my eye.

For the life of me, I couldn't figure out her irrational behavior – so I decided to ask again.

"Livvy, I know something's up – you want to tell me what it is?" I paused. "I was kind of hoping you would be happy for me. You know, with this whole James thing."

"I _am _happy for you," she said, her tone bewilderingly hard but also flat, depressed. "You finally figured out what we've known all along. Congratulations."

"Livvy, cut the shit," Alice said sharply. "What's your problem?"

"Nothing," Livvy snapped back, her tone edged with steel. "I'm reading my book. That's all."

"Lily just told us some big news and all you can do is read the damn book?" This made no sense to Alice – or to me, when I thought on it.

"I have homework to do in this book – I figured it would be a good idea if I read it," said Livvy.

"You know what, Livvy?" Alice's eyes narrowed. "I'm going to tell it to you how it is – no BS, no sugar-coating. This whole week or so that you've been single, you've been a right cow. You're weepy and miserable and you're bringing our mood down with your negativity. Yes, you lost your boyfriend and that's very sad – but it's also your own fault. You were given choices and now you've made yours. You have no business negating everyone else's experiences just because yours haven't been peachy-perfect."

These are harsh words, but I know I've been thinking them and I know they're true. I rarely see Alice as agitated as she was when verbally slapping Livvy across the face – she's a placid, cheerful sort of person that doesn't like conflict she can't gape at or gossip about – and I could see the shock registering in Livvy's brown eyes.

However, that shock was quickly replaced with a more pronounced anger, as she pulled herself together.

"Those are terrible things to say," she shot at Alice. "You have absolutely no idea what I'm feeling right now. Don't attempt to pigeon-hole me."

"You were supposed to choose Quidditch or Russell and you chose Quidditch," Alice said, everything about her hardening. "Just because you're wallowing over your own boyfriend, doesn't mean you have to ruin Lily's news by being sulky. This is a big deal for her."

"And I never said it wasn't," Livvy said waspishly.

"So then why are you still acting like this?" Alice demanded.

"Because James ruined my life and I don't think it's fair that as you watch what he did to me, you go ahead and pursue a relationship with him anyway!" Livvy finally burst out, her cheeks so red and blotchy that I knew we had hit the truth.

"_Livvy_!" I was horrified. "Livs, my relationship with James has absolutely nothing to do with you!"

"That's exactly my point," Livvy sobbed, tears starting to fall hard and fast. "After he gave us our ultimatum, you decided to make things official – you decided to go out again – and I can only assume it's because you agree with him over me, and I'm supposed to be your friend."

"Livvy, both of you are my friends," I said, strained, feeling a lump in my throat. "I never left you or anything after we made it official. You both matter to me and I can't agree with one of you over the other."

"Well, you did!" Livvy shouted at me, clutching her book to her chest as though it was the only thing keeping her alive. "You chose him over me!"

"What happened with you three was unfortunate, but I care about him," I replied, feeling my heart slowly and quietly breaking at the extraordinary nature of this conversation. The happy lightness of my date was quickly seeping out of me and being replaced by angry bitterness – I couldn't help but resent Livvy for ruining my special moment with her dramatics. "What he feels for me is completely different from what happened with you."

"It's not completely different, it can't be!" Livvy shot back. "We're referring to the _same person_, Lily! The decisions he made affected your friend and you still went back to him. That means you agree – or you just don't bloody care!"

"Livvy, just because you are my friend, doesn't mean your personal affairs will dictate my relationships," I said, perhaps more coldly than I'd intended to.

"Normally, they shouldn't, but in this case, Lily, you can't ignore what he did," Livvy said vehemently. "He hurt me twice and you find that irrelevant."

"I told you more than a thousand times not to go out with him in fourth year and you refused to listen to me," I pointed out, beginning to lose my temper. "How is that suddenly playing into all of this? And this time around – he gave you a choice, not a set decision. _You_ made the set decision and you can't blame him for how you screwed that up!"

"I can't believe you!" Livvy shrieked. She was crying real tears now, her face completely full of them, her eyelids overflowing with her grief; and her intensity only triggered mine, getting tears welling up in my eyes too. "You do agree with him over me! You think this is my fault! You don't think _any _of this is tied to his wrong-doing – despite the fact that you've known us the same length of time and I'm supposed to be your friend!"

I took a long pause trying to figure out how to respond to that one. Livvy was starting to hit hilarity with her crying; Alice was sitting silently beside us, wondering how the hell to intervene without getting someone angrier; and here was me, the center of all the controversy because I had finally found someone who made me happy.

Livvy felt her pain was irrelevant to me; but I felt that my happiness was irrelevant to Livvy. How was that kind of painful paradox supposed to end well?

So, after a long silence only punctuated by Livvy's wracked sobs, I said, "There's no winning anything with you, is there?"

"What?" asked Livvy, not understanding.

"I mean, you will find every way to twist this situation into saying I'm the horrible person in this scenario, because I betrayed you or didn't care about you or whatever the hell else you think I did wrong," I said. "You are the one who doesn't think any of this is tied to your own wrong-doing. You think it's all me and James because it's easier to blame us than to actually look at your own faults!"

"And there you are, taking his side—"

"Yes, because I love him!" I hollered at her, so loud I made all three of us jump. "Because I bloody fucking love him and you haven't the faintest idea how to deal with anyone's happiness but your own!"

From the corner of my eye, I could see Alice soften just the tiniest bit; but in my main line of vision was Livvy, who was swelling with emotion.

"That's convenient for you, isn't it?" she said, her face red and her body quivering and her tone somehow monotone and bitter at the same time. "You can love him, you can disapprove of me and Russell, you can cozy up to your boyfriend to talk about how messed up we are and you can try to appease me with a combination of seemingly profound platitudes on both my strengths and weaknesses. Just perfect. You get everything and stupid Livvy is shut up, doesn't have to be heard from again. That's what you want."

"You're talking through your hat and you bloody know it," I practically growled. "I love you, Livs, but love doesn't mean I excuse you for everything you do wrong. When you were playing underground Romeo and Juliet, I didn't approve, so I told you. And I didn't approve of you messing up the game because that helped no one – it only made everything more complicated – and that has nothing to do with James—"

"I won't be appeased for you this time!" Livvy hollered at me, switching from the monotone to such _anger _that she had me quaking, defensive, frightened. "You don't want to be on my side – you don't want me to be around you—"

"Because when you need me, I'm there for you!" I shout back loud enough to raise the roof, finding the violent intensity from some arcane recesses inside my fear. "When you're upset, or you're miserable, or you're confused, or you're whatever the hell else, I'm _there_! I keep your secrets, and I try to point you in the right direction when you're wrong, and you are being an absolute brat!"

"Yes, of course, that's me – Livvy the brat, who can never bow down to the almighty Lily Evans the way she deserves!" Livvy practically spits. "Because you're lovely and quirky and funny and you think the whole damn world loves you! Because you're popular and can get away with anything, because you're smart and pretty! Because you're everything everyone wants and I can never kiss your arse like you've become accustomed to!"

Stunned, I'm about to open my mouth – somehow retort to these awfully offensive remarks – but it is at this point, when the fight is about to get seriously ugly, that Alice suddenly intervenes.

"_Shut up_, would you please?" she requests of us both. Her tone is firm, but her worried eyes betray her emotions if I know where to look. "This is ridiculous. This argument is getting you nowhere. All you're doing is making each other feel worse and that's not what friends do."

Livvy opens her mouth to say something derisive, I'm sure, but Alice silences her with a look.

"Basically, you're both upset because you don't think the other cares about how you feel," she synthesized. "Well, that's a lie, because you two love and care about each other. So Livvy – quit this. Lily didn't bring this whole thing up; you did and now you've been heard."

"What, so this is _my _fault?" Livvy could scarcely believe it, her inferno jumping exponentially.

"Well…I mean…Lily came in to tell you about a personal development that had nothing to do with you," said Alice with a shrug. "You made the big hairy deal about it. I can't exactly tell Lily not to date James just because you have some misplaced grudge against him."

"Oh, beautiful," Livvy shot at us both, her eyes flashing with anguish, betrayal. "Of course this is how it has to be. Lily and Alice, the two best friends, against the third wheel, me."

"What the _hell_ are you on about now?" I asked, exasperated and beyond the point of common politeness.

"Absolutely nothing, as usual," Livvy fired back. "Just wallowing, feeling sorry for myself, being the screwed-up person you clearly think I am. Pay me no attention – don't want to ruin your evening even further."

"Livvy, you are not the third wheel," said Alice firmly. "I'm with Lily on this one – what the hell are you on about now?"

"Exactly this!" The tears were back, as was distraught, bitter Livvy. And there I was thinking we were done now. "You two are always together, always siding with each other, and I'm the one you leave out! You don't care two shits about me. You don't want to know how I feel. You don't want to consider me in the least. It's all about you two and when something goes wrong, _I'm_ the one at fault, not you two or your boyfriends or whoever else. I make you miserable and your lives would be so much better, wouldn't they, if I left them?"

"Livvy, you're getting hysterical," Alice warned. "If you could calm down, take the emotion out of this—"

"I am _done_!" Livvy finally shouted, loud enough to invoke the Apocalypse. "My emotions are plainly too much trouble for you and I hate to be such a burden on your wonderful lives."

She jumps off the bed, grabbing her books, her hair all over the place, her eyes feral. "You don't care about my relationships, my feelings, my considerations, my anything. You want nothing to do with me and it's high time I reciprocate the favor."

She stormed to the door, stumbling because she was shaking so hard. "Good night," she sobbed as she wildly swung at the door and stalked out. I think she meant to slam the door shut and make her dramatic exit, but the force of her hit made the door bang into the frame and come back, wobbling slightly on its hinges as though it, too, was confused and hurt by its recent treatment.

Alice and I were pin-drop silent after Livvy was gone. We just sat there on her bed, wondering what the hell just happened, what it meant for us, what it would mean for the future.

Livvy had such a major tantrum – she's never acted like that before. She's finally cracked under the pressures of exams and homework and boyfriends and insecurity. She said all kinds of hurtful things and we made hurtful responses and we can't take any of that back. It's been said, it's sitting there in the air between us, and now we have to deal with it. And it's horrible in all the ways that matter.

Even now, I'm so stunned that I can barely reflect upon it. Livvy's face – so livid in mine – bobs in my mind's eye and it's all I can see. Her voice – shouting so many things she has never said in the entirety of our relationship – is all I can hear.

I don't know how I'm going to face her tomorrow. I don't know how I'm supposed to live in this world, function normally and do classwork, when Livvy is sitting just a few meters away from me, quietly hating me. Being hated to your face is one of the most emotionally degrading things you can endure. It's just horrible.

And then there's the fact that this isn't just anyone. If it was, I could deal with this, brush it off after some guilt and introspection and chocolate.

But this is _Livvy_. Livvy Harris. One of my best friends.

Not anymore, though, I guess, if what she's been saying tonight will come to pass.

As unbelievable as it feels to write this, Livvy has finally fallen apart, blowing open a rift between us in one night that I don't know how to bridge. She has broken up with me and Alice, too, in a way, along with Russell. I can't even begin to describe how sad that makes me.

I'm beyond the comfort of guilt, introspection, or chocolate. I'm beyond the comfort of Alice, even, or James. I just want to sleep and hope that when I wake up tomorrow, this will turn out to be some horrible dream my morbid mind cooked up to entertain itself.

Until tomorrow then, maybe. I dunno. Just…some time that isn't now.

--

A/N: So there you go. Whew! Catharsis! Very frightening, I know. Is Livvy insane? (Yes.) Is she justified? (Kind of.) Is she going to speak to the girls again? (Can't say.) Is this going to affect L/J in any way? (A little.) These are all things to come up later. Plus some stuff that's actually happy. So…look out for that.

Cheers, you lot, and please review on your way out!


	53. I Deal with What Comes Next

A/N: LOL I love you guys. Some of you think Livvy had a point somewhere in there, some of you think she's off her rocker, some of you think she's a bitch, some of you are worried she'll do another stupid thing to add to her list, some of you are tired of/irritated by the drama…it's quite interesting to hear what you all have to say. It's so varied. I love it when people get into the drama and give their two cents on what's going on.

But my own two cents…I agree that Livvy is the least likeable character I've ever really fleshed out. And it totally wasn't supposed to go that way, when I unwittingly starting writing this tale back in…what was it, May? But there you go – there's another real-life example of how stories take on a mind of their own and things just happen.

Cheers, you lot. Good luck in there.

--

March 17

**Morning Status:**

I woke up this Monday morning shaking. I thought it was because I was cold, but something inside me told me it wasn't. I also found wetness in the corner of my eye, seeping into my pillow. I'd been crying last night and I didn't even know it.

I trudged out of bed like I'd slept a hundred years. I already knew today couldn't be a good day.

**10:20 AM**  
_Status_: Gloomy

Well, Day One of being without Livvy has already begun and is off to as depressing a start as I could hope for.

It's second period and Livvy has not looked at me once. Alice said she changed without a word in the dormitory this morning and left for breakfast. She sat with Lissie Elmhurst and her friends on the other side of the breakfast table. She's not particularly friendly with Lissie, but she's nice to everyone and taking on a kindred spirit is her sole aim in life. Lissie was happy to adopt Livvy and Livvy was happy to be adopted. It was perfect. And so it was.

First period, I knew I'd have to face her and I'll admit I was curious to see how she would react to being in such close proximity to us after yesterday evening.

But, as it turned out, Livvy was playing an ignoring game. My seat is the nearest to the door and she breezed by me like I wasn't even there, like I was part of that wall instead of a living, breathing girl who, until very recently, was one of her best friends.

It's not only me. She's doing this to Alice too. It's like she's died. No matter how irrational she is or how much she hurt me, I hate that I woke up yesterday morning with Livvy as my close friend and today, she isn't. I hate that she won't talk to me. I hate that we are so bitter and I hate that we might never speak to each other again.

If this is how it's going to be for the remainder of the year – and the remainder of our lives – I'm not sure how to react.

**11:00 AM**  
_Status_: Hollow

Alice…is it wrong that I miss Livvy? –L

_Yes. She's off her rocker and missing her will do you no good. –A_

But she was our friend. That has to count for something. –L

_Abusive men were also boyfriends to some women. Does that count for something? –A_

Yes. Because if you let go of the pain…you have to let go of the good stuff too. I told Livvy everything. She told me everything. I was the first – and I think only – person she told when she first had sex with Russell. How can I let that go lightly? –L

_Because regardless of the good, the bad was what drove you apart and made you feel like rubbish. So for your own health and sanity, you need to let it go – all of it – because Livvy was not the only person that loved you. –A_

It's horrible that she's in the same room as me, so close to me, and hating me. No matter what it means for my health, I can't stop feeling miserable, even if it's not my fault. –L

_You think I'm not shaken up by this? You think I'm not upset about how it ended? Because I am, Lily. But I also believe in that one saying: If you love someone, let them go. If they come back, then they love you too. –A_

That's such a clichéd platitude, Alice. –L

_Clichés were founded in truth, love. So was that one. –A_

You are such a romantic. –L

_Maybe. But I'm also telling you to let go instead of wallow and look at Livvy's baby pictures while crying yourself to sleep. So please do us both a favor and let her go. She has her own demons to deal with before she's allowed to function in higher society. I'm not even kidding – I think she needs therapeutic help. –A_

How can you take this so…lightly? –L

_Feeling bad about things that only she can fix is not in my nature, Lils. My sense of self-preservation is a little acuter than yours. I'll stop when I know I'm going to get hurt. You'll go on getting hurt until you can't take it anymore and you have to explode. So take it from me. Stop worrying. If we're destined to be best friends, she'll find her way back. –A_

Okay… -L

_Get that mopey look off your face and take some notes. I can see your hand itching to. –A_

I love you, Alice. –L

_And I love you too. Muchly. –A_

Is that a word? –L

_Well, it should be. –A_

Remind me to hug you after class. –L

_Done. _–A

**4:30 PM**  
_Status_: Excited

Apparently, miracles do exist in this screwed-up world we live in.

Waking up today, I seriously and honestly thought today would be a horrible day with absolutely nothing to save me from my social life. I thought it would be listless, another mundane, meaningless day in a string of them, set as a backdrop to my emotional state.

But I was _wrong_.

And I've never been happier about that statement.

See, today, after school, Kate Patterson – the Hufflepuff prefect – came running breathlessly at me as I was about to walk into the Gryffindor common room. She shouted my name from down the corridor just as I was about to give the password to the portrait. Luckily, though, I heard her and waited until she had sprinted up to me, completely out of breath and breathing erratically. She needed a minute in order to regain her breath.

Then she said, "We appealed today during lunch, you know, for the dance. Me, Annie, Will, Mavis, Jonathon and Trey. Couldn't find Michael and Abigail. McGonagall has just called an emergency meeting – need you and James there."

"You appealed today! Yes, yes, I remember!" I exclaimed, although I hadn't. "Right. Okay. Well…have you gotten James yet?"

"Not yet," she said.

"I'll get him," I promised. "Tell McGonagall we'll see her in five minutes."

"Brilliant – thanks, Lily," said Kate with an enormous grin. "See you."

"See you," I said back, almost as breathless as she.

We were appealing for a Hogwarts dance! McGonagall wanted to listen! How exciting.

Finding James turned out to be an easy task. I found him in his dormitory, giving Napoleon a bath and grooming him with Remus, Sirius, and Peter. I told him about the emergency meeting and he jumped up to join me. Then, together, the two of us sprinted hand-in-hand to McGonagall's office, where all the prefects were already assembled. We burst into the room with our hair all over our faces, our lungs ready to tear, our muscles aching and our hands still interlocked. Quite a sight, I'm sure. The prefects and McGonagall were rather amused to see us.

"Glad you could make it, Mr. Potter and Ms. Evans," she said crisply, silently taking in our sorry states. "Take a seat, please."

Blushing, we sat down next to each other and tried to look as attentive and mature as we could as McGonagall began to speak.

"So…you ten have decided that you want a full-scale school dance on the last day of this year," she said. "And you think it's a good way to get everyone together before the year ends."

"We believe it's an optimal opportunity for inter-House communication, yes," Annie Potent clarified with a vigorous nod.

"Well…I've talked it over with the Headmaster, as well as with the rest of the staff, and we are concerned on several points," McGonagall informed us.

"I thought we covered everything in the presentation," Kate said, trembling slightly.

"Do tell us what those points are, Professor," said Annie, pulling out parchment, a quill and ink, already poised to take notes.

"Firstly, there is the issue of cost," said McGonagall as Annie immediately began to write. "This dance – as you are projecting it – will cost a pretty penny and the school, unfortunately, doesn't have the means to fund it. How do you intend to pay?"

"We're having the entire school donate in a collection tin we'll place in the Entrance Hall," Michael Fink piped up. He's particularly proud of this idea, since he came up with it. "We'll have a goal posted up and we know there's a lot of interest. They'll give us the money and we'll pay. Done."

"Another issue," continued McGonagall, "is the _mess_. We will have decorations and food and goodness knows what else in our Great Hall. We teachers cannot – that is to say, will not – clean it up. Are you aware of what you need to do to make it work?"

"We'll do everything," Will promised. "We'll oversee deliveries, we'll put everything up, we'll clean everything afterwards, and send it back. We'll take care of everything. We're aware."

"It's also very late in the year to be doing things like this," said McGonagall. "It's a lot of work and you already have responsibilities on your shoulders. Are you sure you want to take on this extra level of responsibility? Knowing, as you do, that your exams are fast approaching?"

"It's going to be a group deal, Professor – we're going to help each other out and no one will sacrifice studying time for party-planning," said James. "We know what we're getting into."

"Perhaps _you _do – but the rest of the school might not," pointed out McGonagall. "They will look at it as a happy distraction from hard work; and as teachers, we don't want everyone failing these important exams because there's a dance so soon afterwards."

"Forgive me for saying this, Professor, but people will find a way to slack off even without this dance," I said, thinking of myself on warm sunny days when reading spellbooks is the very last thing I want to do. "Distraction will be high regardless of this plan – and for those who are serious about their work, it will be a lovely reward for their sacrifices."

McGonagall looked at us long and hard, seeming very conflicted. She locked eyes with each individual in the room, silent and intimidating, but we held our ground. We wanted this and she had better know that. Even sullen Michael Fink was sticking heavily to the cause.

Finally, after several long, itchy seconds stretched for an eternity, McGonagall sighs. "I shall conference with the rest of the staff and let your Heads know," she said. "But remember – you are completely on your own. We are not involved in any way."

"Thank you, Professor," said James with a wide grin.

We all voiced our gratitude and McGonagall dismissed us. We went out in clusters of two and three, whispering like children at the very real prospect of having this dance. Annie was talking about some student-wide petition if McGonagall says no, but I don't think she will. I think deep down, she really wants us to have our fun.

I'm thoroughly excited about this whole thing, personally. Must tell Alice when I see her. Actually, I'll tell her now – I have to do my homework anyway, with her at our usual common room table, and she'll be excited with me.

We're going to have a dance! We'll be legends at Hogwarts for this.

Or, at least, we should be.

**2:30 PM**  
_Status_: Bored

Aliiiiiice…I need a nap. –L

_I know. You look exhausted. –A_

Do I? –L

_Yeah. …But hey, I have a question I've been meaning to ask you since, like, yesterday. –A_

What is it? –L

_When you were arguing with Livvy, and she was hammering you about dating James, you screamed at her that you bloody fucking loved him. And I'm wondering…was that in the heat of the moment, or did you really mean it? –A_

(Remarks added after the fact: When I got this note, I had to sit and think on it for a bit. First, the bitterness that comes up from even thinking about that argument loitered in my throat like a lock filled with blowing gum. Then I had to refocus my energies on that moment, what my motivations were, and try to decipher them.

It took me two minutes, but I scribbled an answer and sent it back to her.)

Both. In the heat of the moment, when it all really mattered, I knew I loved him. It felt right to say I did. So…that has to be love. Or something very close to it. –L

_I am so proud of you. We're going out for ice cream next Hogsmeade visit. –A_

**11:00 PM**  
_Status_: Warmed

There are some days that really suck. Days where it feels like the world is against you and everyone hates you and every stupid bloody thing is piled on top of you and you wonder why you're still here, taking it all. Days where just running away and living in a cave with rodents the size of tea-cups doesn't sound half bad.

But then there are other days that don't suck. Days where you feel something like a princess, warm and wonderful because there's someone you can go to that will hold you, hug you, love you. Days where you feel like smiling until your cheek muscles hurt. Days you want to bottle up and sink into on one of the aforementioned suckish days.

So…let me explain my patrol tonight and I'll conclude what kind of day this one has been.

Well, tonight I wandered around the sixth and seventh floors as usual, with James at my side. Things aren't awkward between us anymore, after our date, and if this were any other day, we would have walked comfortably together, holding hands intermittently and talking.

But I wasn't in the mood to talk. The excitement from the dance appeal wore off pretty fast, leaving me back in my listless state, thinking about Livvy and hating that I couldn't follow Alice's simple (and wise) advice to just let it go. These thoughts rendered me quite unsociable and undoubtedly, James – who was not plagued by the same guilt and sadness I was – noticed.

"Hey, Lils, you all right?" he asked, gently, concernedly. "You're kind of…down."

"Yeah, I kind of am," I admitted.

"You want to…I dunno, maybe talk about it?" This time, his tone was kind of mocking, playful. But his eyes betrayed the initial softness. Somehow, that strengthened me.

"Just…girl rubbish," I said heavily, sighing. "I'm having friend issues."

"Who with? I'll kill her," James piped up.

"Livvy," I said, almost challengingly.

Immediately, his mood sobered along with mine.

"I see," he said very evenly.

"She 'broke up' with me and Alice yesterday," I said, my tone a little forced, as Livvy was the first and last thing I wanted to discuss. "It's the only way I can think to describe it. Like…in the morning we were friends, and by the evening, we weren't."

"What happened?"

"We fought," I said. Bizarrely, tears were starting to roll, but I worked hard to hold them back and hold my tone steady. "I came back from my date with you and I wanted to tell them about it…and then Livvy combusted. We said lots of things, cried a lot, screamed, and after a while she left. She was gone. And I…I dunno." Here, my voice kind of broke, although no tears came. "It's kind of upsetting."

At first, James didn't say anything. We stopped walking and he looked at me, as I tried feverishly to stop crying. Merlin, what was wrong with me? Why was I crying? More importantly, why was I crying _now_? I was with someone I trusted. I was with someone I loved. But…I was crying. And I was supposed to let this stupid drama go. Why…?

It was with great difficulty, but I let my wet eyeballs bore into his and suddenly, the horror of the affair – the things that barely penetrated my understanding since the actual events – caught up with me and I couldn't take it anymore.

"Ex-boyfriends are one thing," I whispered, "but best friends are another. She really hurt me."

Wordlessly, James gathered me up and gave me a tight hug. Gratefully, I let my head rest on his chest and allowed my tears to dribble out of my eyelids, allowing myself the tiny bit of pathetic-ness necessary after significant misery. He was great about it, stroking my hair and standing there, patient as the Earth. I lost track of the seconds I remained in that small, warm, cozy place between his arms and his chest, the smell of his neck in my nose and his heat against my body.

"Hey, hey, you're okay," he told me after a while, taking me out of my little cocoon and brushing my irritatingly frizzy hair out of the patches of wetness on my cheeks. "Lils…I'm sorry, but I can think of a thousand worse things for you to cry about."

"What are you talking about?" I asked with an enormous, extremely disgusting sniffle. "Livvy is – was – one of my best friends in the world."

"Yeah, but I mean, if some overly-sentimental girl makes you cry over something like this, then she's clearly not worth it," he said logically. "I mean, she's likely still mad at me for the whole Russell thing, and she's taking it out on you, which isn't fair because you stood by her despite the fact that she was _wrong_. And you guys are close, so I'm pretty sure she'll come belly-crawling back in no time at all, so why waste your energy getting upset?"

Despite myself, I giggled.

"You'd be surprised how many times a day you remind me of Alice," I said. "She's been telling me the exact same things all day."

"Then she's clearly on to something," said James, grinning. "There's no point in being upset. Livvy was out of line and without even knowing what you fought about, I can conclude she must have been completely illogical."

"Well, you _are _kind of biased," I said slyly, giving his chest a little poke as I let him cuddle me and walk us both to the next corridor.

"No, of course not!" he said, shocked. But, when I gave him a look, he mock-considered the point and sighed.

"Okay, maybe a little," he allowed, "but what can I do? You're usually right."

"You're silly," I said, smirking at him and (loudly) sniffling away the last of my tears. "But…I mean…if you really want to know, what really got her blood boiling was the fact that after you ruined her life, I was ready to pursue a relationship with you."

James snorted. "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously," I said. "She was upset because she interpreted it as irreverence to how she was feeling."

"See? I told you she'd be wrong," he said. "Pursuing a relationship with me had nothing to do with her. And it shouldn't. How you feel about me and how I feel about you should not depend upon Olivia's approval."

"It kind of does and I could see why she was hurt," I said reasonably.

"Maybe my decisions regarding her will indirectly affect you," he said, "but I wasn't putting pressure on them to be mean. I was putting pressure on them because I had to. I was as horrified as you when Olivia broke it off with Russell. But like I said, _that isn't our fault_."

"I still feel like it could be," I admitted.

James shook his head. "No," he said. "It isn't. Because Olivia is sentimental to the point of oblivion, and utterly incapable—"

"Stop that!" I suddenly requested. "Stop…ripping on her like that! Livvy is…quiet. She's not very social. She has a hard time figuring out what to say and how to say it. She's fragile and it's easy to hurt her. She works hard and she's always been quirky, kind of a perfectionist. She's always been the mature one out of us three, keeping me and Alice on task and taking a rational side on things. But this year…she's been stressed out of her mind, she fell in love, and now everything's fallen apart. She's got nothing. She hurt me, but she's hurt herself, and I hate that you keep stridently going forth with your criticisms of her, when she's the lowest she's ever been."

"I'm sorry, Lils, but Olivia is not a child anymore," said James with a heavy sigh. "She's almost an adult. I know it sounds harsh, but she needs to learn how to deal if she wants to get anywhere – lashing out is clearly doing her more harm than good. I understand that circumstances aren't always good…but how you handle that reality exposes you at your fundamentals and Olivia, sadly, is not who you thought she was. If she's not in the clear, I have to say so."

I opened my mouth to counter, but James interrupted me. "I know how you are, Lils," he said. "You're going to contradict me and stew on this forever, even though your friends are telling you to let it go. And I can respect that to a certain degree. But don't let this dilemma screw with you and me. Livvy could have blamed a slice of bread for her troubles and you wouldn't eat sandwiches for a month. Don't treat me like exiled bread."

I bit my lip. "Of course I won't."

His eyes were more earnest than I had ever seen them – fragile and sweet, like blooms that had just come out this morning. "I hope so."

I reached my hand out and lightly touched his face, running my fingers through his perpetually messy hair. "You know," I said softly, "yesterday, in the midst of our argument, Livvy was railing against me for taking your side because I loved you, and I shouted at her that yes, I did love you. And…I meant what I said. You know, because I do…love you. A lot."

For once, I didn't let my gaze falter, even when he softened in that frighteningly lovely way he had.

"I trust you," I managed to say with relative firmness. "I'm happy when I'm around you. And I loved it when we went out. Regardless of my feelings for the Livvy situation, I know that how I feel about _you_ won't change. I…want to be with you too."

He was quiet for some time, seeming struck dead, and I honestly was not sure where this was going to go from there.

"Hey, Lils?" he asked, his voice just a little more than a murmur.

"Yeah?" I found myself shyly anticipating his next words with something pleasant and golden bubbling away in my tummy.

"I love you too," he said with a kiss on my cheek.

I blushed and let my head rest on his shoulder. I didn't have to say any more than that – whatever I felt just translated from him to me without any extraneous words attached. He held me closer and we walked around like a conjoined couple attached at the hip for the remainder of the patrol, talking little but saying volumes all the same.

It was hard to part with him and come back here to my dormitory, where I am presently sitting. I'm still thinking about him, how we are, how I want to be, how my feelings have shifted so dramatically over the past few months. Awkwardness has been an underlying factor in everything we've ever done, I know; but somehow, I feel braver than I ever have, telling him I love him and meaning it without obsessively questioning what it means.

It's a free-fall kind of scariness – the initial rush takes your breath away, and you swear you're fried and you'll never be the same again, but soon you get used to it, and you feel like it's all somehow going to be okay anyway.

When I started this entry, I said that there were two kinds of days – the days that suck and make you want to crawl into a hole and the days that make you feel snug and adored.

Well…now I've concluded that there are other types of days too: days that are hopeful, with storms that are only just beginning to clear; days that aren't rainy or sunny but shielded by a cloud cover, in which the sun promises to be out soon and you feel the toxins filtering out of your being, recuperating.

There are people who love me, but there are also people who don't love me enough to understand me. I have smiled today and I have cried. It's a mix of both – because very rarely are days ever purely suckish or wonderful – and perhaps naively, I think the good is going to win out. The sun _will _come out soon. I'm going to be okay.

Today was only the first in which Livvy has ignored me. And I know how I feel about that will not fade tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that. But I do know that I can choose to make it tolerable from here on out.

I think I want to pop in and say good-night to Alice before I go to bed. Knowing her, she's still wide awake and I just want to tell her I love her before I knock out for the night.

So…until later. Hopefully, I'll have nicer, happier news when I return.

--

A/N: I kind of lost it at the end there, but I was so beyond tired of this chapter. It felt like it needed to be purged. So I patched it up the best I could and hoped you'd like it. It featured some fluff, as well as some angsting, so I can see it as a decent, balanced chapter.

Next chapter is short and sweet. The chapter after is longer and sweeter. The chapter after _that _is fun and sweet. Then we have a quick break in the action before I devastate my little cast of characters again. So…be excited. I'm still working out the kinks past the devastation, but it should even out okay. I hope. Maybe?

Ah, well. If I'm nervous, I'll run to my epic friend Niki and she'll lend me some of her rationality. I totally wish I had some of it. Maybe I should steal some when she isn't looking…

Be sure to review on the way out of the browser, guys. Cheers!


	54. I Muse Upon my Society

A/N: All throughout the writing of this chapter, I kept telling myself, this is too cute. What's wrong with you, Zay? This isn't how real life is. But there you have it. Writing the relationship-ish stuff these past few weeks makes me realize that I don't know what the hell I'm doing. Because I _don't_.

Seriously, full disclosure time here – I know _nothing _about this subject. I am a cynic. I'm famous for theorizing that love is a farce. I'm also famous for declaring I don't want to get married or have children. I've had a grand total of one crush my sixteen-year-old life – and that wasn't even a crush, merely a psychological manifestation of short-lived insecurity and curiosity. I have no close guy friends to speak of. Only one guy makes me feel kind of funny in the tummy and that's only me being stupid, since I don't even like him that way. I _really _don't know anything about being a girl in love.

And yet…here I am, writing about it all as if I have a right to. Life is a strange, strange piece of work.

This chapter, you should listen to: _Sushi_, by Kyle Andrews.

Erm…enjoy?

--

March 25

**11:30 AM**  
_Status_: Listless

At long, long last, I can truthfully say that Saturday morning has finally come for me; and it is amazing how grateful I am to make it here. It's been a ridiculously long week.

Unfortunately, starting on Monday, the teachers suddenly realized that we only have a couple of months before exams start, and they took the liberty of lecturing us liberally for at least fifteen minutes before leaping into some complicated lesson plan or another. All week, we've had to wake up to the unpleasant reality that our future is waiting for us, coming for us, and we have to be ready.

I, for one, am not ready for my future. I've fallen into a rut. I'm bored and I'm listless. Livvy still isn't speaking to me and Alice, fed up of her attitude, is dividing her free time between me and Frank, pointedly and somewhat childishly ignoring Livvy as well. Through all of this, I'm trying to work, I really am, but I can't keep my focus long enough to do a good job. During the week, I live for the weekend; and on the weekend, I feel so awful that I almost long for the structure and activity of the week.

You know things are bad when not even the weekend can make you feel like life is worth living.

Days come and go, I patrol and do my homework, and things are chugging along. The weather has been moody of late, the skies blustery and then abruptly clear; but now it's finally started moving towards the clearer side, filling our classrooms with early spring sunshine and emptying our heads of any indoor thoughts.

And now…now it's Saturday.

It feels safe, coming into this Saturday. I woke up late – eleven fifteen – and I've been lolling about my dormitory. I'm still in my pajamas and I'm sure I smell gross. I haven't even brushed my hair – it's sitting in a curly mass on top of my head and it desperately needs a wash. But you know, I don't even care, because it's Saturday and I don't have to be anywhere and OH BOLLOCKS I JUST REMEMBERED.

I _do _have to be somewhere. I have a date today. With James. At noon. And it's ten minutes to. And my hair is a grease factory.

_Fuckfuckfuckfuck_.

I'd best tell Alice to head James off and tell him that I'll be a little late. Don't want him to think I'm standing him up or anything. Then I have to wash this hair of mine. Merlin, why did I let it go so filthy? It should be bloody illegal. Do I still have shampoo, or did my bottle run out? I remembered to get more, right? Damn, why don't I think these things through?!

Shall write again properly very soon, promise!

**3:30 PM**  
_Status_: Delighted

Okay…so where was I?

Right, right. I remember now – I almost forgot I had my date with James today. And I wasn't sure if I had any shampoo left with which to tame my hair.

Well, fortunately, the whole thing didn't go off as horribly as it could have. I caught Alice – in my miserable pajama state – and told her to please let James know that I'm going to be late. This took quite a while, mainly because she had to take a few minutes to laugh her guts out at my forgetfulness, but the message was mercifully delivered on time. I fled to my shower and found that I had just enough shampoo to get myself through. This time. Must remember to get some more.

Anyway, I threw on jeans and a sweatshirt and lathered my hair in hair potion to make it curly and presentable. I clipped it up with my favorite butterfly clip, deemed myself tolerable, and ran to catch James in the village.

Unluckily, I hit a snag at this point. It was Alice. She caught me trying to sprint out of the Entrance Hall and was appalled by my sweatshirt. She thought it was a felony punishable by law to wear something that "appallingly hideous" to a date. So much for my quick escape. Like a child caught stealing from the biscuit jar, Alice marched me back upstairs to my dormitory and insisted I change my shirt.

After half an hour of begging, pleading, arguing and a little blackmailing, Alice and I finally settled on my lime green t-shirt with the pink heart on it. It was cute, casual, and perfect for the first truly nice day we'd had in a while. Plus, Alice reckoned it showed my figure off to its best advantage, but I think that's merely a matter of opinion.

Once dressed, I sprinted out to Hogsmeade (now forty-five minutes late) and met up with James in front of Honeydukes. He grinned upon seeing me, breathless from all the running with my hair disheveled again from the wind, and gave me a hug when I came close enough. He felt solid and good and cool against my flushed skin.

"Hey," he said. "Took your sweet time, didn't you, Lils?"

"Sorry," I said, going pink. "Alice decided I wasn't dressed well enough to see you…so when I tried to come downstairs, she took me back upstairs and made me change."

"You look fine," he pointed out, looking me up and down.

"I wore a sweatshirt originally," I felt obliged to explain.

James laughed. "You know, contrary to popular belief, guys don't usually care how nice you look when you come for a date," he told me. "I wouldn't have cared if you wore a potato sack."

"Yes you would've," I said with a snort.

"Maybe a little," he allowed. "But not enough to say so, or gossip to all my friends, or anything like that."

"You're one of a rare breed, then," I said, smirking. "So…let's get going, I'm _starved_. I didn't have any breakfast. Let's have lunch. Or maybe brunch."

James laughed again. "Right. I forgot how much you like to eat."

"Despite all my mother's best attempts to turn me into a lady, I'm incapable of eating small bites in sizeable portions," I said.

"That's okay," he said. "We'll order doubles."

"Once, Alice dared me to eat triples by myself and I did," I told him.

James was mightily impressed. "You could give Sirius a run for his money," he said approvingly. "Maybe we'll do that some time."

"Maybe we should." I laughed and took his hand. "Now hurry up – my stomach's going to eat itself if you keep dawdling here and making small talk."

He laughed too and together, we ran down the street to The Three Broomsticks. Once there, I took forever to pick what I wanted to eat and James gave a lot of exaggerated sighs. He called me a name and I stepped on his foot, so he pulled on my hair and I slapped him sharply across the face. He was so astonished that for a few seconds, he just stood there while I giggled uncontrollably.

Once he got his bearings back, though, he practically leapt on top of me and gave me such a bone-crushing hug that I literally had to check if he had crushed any bones.

"James, stop it!" I squealed this and tried to hit him, make him release the pressure and get off of me, and he lifted me up off the ground, twirling me around like there weren't people watching, like this really was a romantic movie or something where he could do something this stupid and get away with it.

"James, I mean it, stop that! People are staring!" I yelled as he grinned somewhere near my ear, his deep chuckle reverberating through my very being, as though I was a bell or a set of chimes.

I was about to actually hit him properly, my cheeks red because there were condescending eyes on me (of course); but then the pressure subsided, he stopped trying to kill me, and his hug became cuddly, protective. His face was somewhere in my thick curtain of hair – I could feel the warmth of his breathing on the skin of my neck – and he was holding me so snugly, so sweetly, that he could have kept me there forever and I might not have cared.

My laugh diminished from its initial raucous screech to soft hiccups, as we awkwardly bumbled out of the way and he kept hugging me, and I stroked his hair, also feeling like we really had stolen out somewhere away from reality, in some fantasy world where we could do something this stupid and get away with it.

"James, stop this foolishness," I murmured quietly into his ear, feeling like the heroine in one of those ridiculous films Alice loves to watch.

"Just relax," he murmured back, resting his chin on my shoulder, which must've been somewhat uncomfortable since he was several inches taller than me. "Just relax…"

And despite how embarrassing I knew this was, standing in the middle of the pub with a boy draped upon me – behavior I would have openly criticized before today, by the way – I did. I did relax. I let him stand there with me, swaying a little to a beat in our own heads, and I stopped thinking. I let him hum the tension out of my body. I let him relax me.

Well…I mean, I did, until the moment was shattered by the sound of our names in a familiar female voice.

"Lily? James?"

By instinct, James pulled out of my neck and I looked into the direction of the noise, both our cheeks utterly pink as we realized that we were still, indeed, stuck in reality and the public around us still, indeed, existed.

And, to my horror, I saw Mary Macdonald and Sarah Emerson approaching us, watching us with unrestrained curiosity. I felt my cheeks go absolutely and completely scarlet – almost the color of my hair, I reckon.

"Hi," I mumbled, shaking James's arm off my waist.

"Didn't expect to run into you two," said James, remarkably jovially, rumpling his hair as he always did when he was the slightest bit nervous. "How are you?"

"Just fine," said Sarah Emerson coolly.

"That was pretty intense over there," said Mary with a giggle. "A hug in the middle of The Three Broomsticks – very nice."

"Thanks," I mumbled, averting my eyes and tucking my curls behind my ear.

"You know, I think it's the coolest thing that you're going out now," said Mary conversationally. "Sarah was actually just telling me all about how she saw you the last Hogsmeade visit – you know, and Lily was feeding you chocolate balls, James."

"Yeah, we did do that," said James with a smirk. "She interrupted us in the midst of our best time, too."

Mary laughed. She was being genuine about the whole thing – she was excited and wanted to chit-chat – but somehow, I didn't her or Sarah Emerson to intrude upon our joy. I wanted them to go away, take the world with them, and leave us here, leave us alone and let us play and cuddle and be free. I wanted to forget there were gossips and a school of people intent on getting into our business. I wanted to eat lunch and pretend everyone wanted me to be happy. That's all.

But that wasn't to be so, because Mary's next remark was directed straight at me.

"So, Lils, I guess there _is _something going on between you two now," she said with a mischievous grin and wink. "You _are _together. What did I tell you? You guys were meant to be. It was only a matter of time."

There really wasn't any intelligent thing I could say to that. With James watching, his arm protectively inching toward my waist, I cleared my throat and said, "Yeah. I guess you're right."

"Of _course _I'm right!" twittered Mary. "Plus, I mean, I have eyewitness testimony with Sarah. And lots of people have been talking about it lately. You guys are barely apart, from what I'm hearing."

"We do have our own lives, Mary," I pointed out.

"Boyfriends are fun – it's okay to admit you spend all your time together," she said.

"But we don't," James chimed in. "Patrolling is necessary, but in class and whatever else…I mean, Lily isn't my only friend."

"That's nice," said Sarah, sounding as though it wasn't really that nice. "But you know, I did want to get a few things done up in the castle this afternoon…so Mary, if you'd excuse me…"

"Bye, Sarah!" said Mary cheerfully, waving as she moved towards the door leading to the Main Road.

"You know, we've got to get going too, Mary," said James. "Lily and I were going to pop into the line and get something to eat, so…"

"Yeah, yeah, I totally get it!" she chirped. "Go have fun. I'll catch you around later. Bye!"

"Bye, Mary," I said.

Mary gave us the same little wave she gave Sarah and crossed the floor of the pub with that look on her face, likely because she wanted to speak to someone else she knew. Honestly, I was just glad she was gone. Seeing the two girls had somehow punctured my happy bubble and left me the slightest bit deflated. At that time, I wasn't really sure what it was. I just let James take my hand lead me back into the line, where I buckled down, ordered what I wanted, and split the bill with him. We took our stuff and found ourselves a table, where we settled in and began to eat.

I, however, did not eat with my usual gusto – and James noticed.

"Hey, you all right?" he asked after swallowing an enormous bite of food. "You're a little quiet after all that hugging. Did I slaughter your voice box?"

"I thought so, for a few seconds, but I think I'm unscathed," I said, taking a sip of my water. "I'm just…thinking, I guess."

"Penny for your thoughts?"

I mused briefly on the best way to answer this question. James watched thoughtfully over his butterbeer, clearly curious, and I decided to be honest.

"Does it ever bother you," I asked carefully, "that people are obsessed with us?"

"Obsessed?" James wrinkled his nose at my word choice. "Probably not the way I'd phrase it. Explain."

Of course he'd ask me to explain. I took another gulp of water and attempted (with little success) to try this again.

"Well…I dunno, they _are_ obsessed," I said. "Like, we're bathroom gossip now. Sarah Emerson saw us together and now everyone knows. Mary harps on about how she always knew. Even before we…went out…people would ask if there was something going on, if we were together. Doesn't that ever bother you? That our lives aren't private and now that we're…really together…people think it's because it was inevitable?"

Understanding flickered in those hazel irises and this time, I knew my message had gotten through. I let him take his time considering this thought, eating a little more and thinking, his eyes focused in on something over my right shoulder.

Then, slowly, he said, "Well…a little. But gossip doesn't bother me too much. It doesn't matter. What people say and what is actually happening are different. They can think what they like, but we're together because we care about each other. Not because it was written in the stars."

"It's a noble line to take, that gossip doesn't bother you, but I'm sure you've heard it," I pressed. "I'm sure you've…thought about it. You can't tell me it hasn't bugged you, that we're like Hogwarts tabloid fixtures."

"I can presume, then, that this has bugged you," he said with a lazy grin.

"Of course it has," I said. "I never asked for this. I hate mass-limelight. I never asked to be involved with you, in the beginning. I wanted nothing to do with you. And if we were ever to have a relationship, I would have – and still do – want it to be because I eased into it on my own, not because people shoved it in my face and made it reality."

James considered this too, his expression heavy with thoughts I desperately wanted to hear. I finished off my water and waited for him to say something, anything, and I was duly rewarded.

"Let me tell you something," he said. "A few weeks ago, I was talking to Remus in the library. He was doing his homework, I wasn't. It was just after your birthday and you remember how that Jonathon prefect took the slow dance with you?"

"Yes," I said, unsure where this was going.

"Well, I was telling Remus about it," he continued, "and I was complaining about how nothing ever seemed to work out between you and me. Every time we got close, something went wrong. Remus, being the sensitive one, sympathized with my plight."

At this, I blushed deeply pink. Either he didn't notice or he didn't care, because he ate another bite of his lunch and went on.

"So while I was sitting there and moping with Remus about how the girl I liked wouldn't have me, Amos Diggory approached me," he said. "He sat down at our table and asked how we were. Remus told him I was love-sick and I probably would've killed him, if he wasn't Remus. Then Amos, looking surprised, asked if it had anything to do with you. I admitted as much. Amos was sympathetic, because he thought I was hopeless, and then he asked me somewhat the same question you just asked me."

"And what's that?"

"He asked me, 'Is it worth it?'" James's irises clouded over ambiguously, reminiscing. "He said, 'There are about a thousand and one rumors going around that you two are hot for each other, and now you're sitting here in the library thinking about one girl when you could have every other one, if you wanted. Is she worth all this?'"

I bit my lip. "So what did you say back?"

"I thought about it for about a minute," said James. "I sat there, in the library with Amos and Remus, and I thought about whether or not this was worth it. Having people assume any bad mood was due to wanting to be with you; listening to people gossip about me; hoping for something I thought, at the time, I'd never get; dragging on this childhood fancy when everybody kept telling me to let it go.

"And then I told him, yes," he said simply. "I told him I didn't care how many people gossiped about me. I didn't care if people made judgments about me. My feelings were mine and not theirs. So…I suppose my answer to your original question is yes, but very loosely."

He grinned and leaned closer to me from across the table. "This school has been talking about me since I was eleven years old; and I figure if I'm _still _the center of attention, it might as well be because I've found someone I adore. You know?"

Despite myself, I blushed even redder (if it was possible) and it took a lot out of me to hold his gaze.

"You know, you are astonishingly open about these types of things," I said.

He shrugged. "I've got nothing to hide," he said.

I tucked my hair behind my ear, finishing up the last of my lunch. "And you still feel that way?" I asked.

"What?"

"That this – you and me – is worth it?"

James smiled. "What do you think?"

I chewed on my lip, my half-smile coy, and he reached forward, maybe to stroke my hair or my cheek; but at this moment, we were interrupted by another familiar-ish voice calling our names.

"Lily? James?"

Again, we turned instinctively to our newest intruder, and I found, to my sheer horror, that it was none other than Jonathon.

Oh, Jonathon.

I had to work really hard to rearrange my features into a neutral expression. I noticed James seemed to have the same troubles as me and that, somehow, comforted me. We waved to acknowledge we'd heard him and watched as he waded through the crowd to get to our table.

Everything about him was normal – his dirty blonde hair, bright blue eyes, slightly haughty expression – but there was a particular curiosity about him today, as he took in the sight before him, empty plates and glasses on the table between us.

"There you are," he said. "I've been looking everywhere."

"What do you need, Jonathon?" I asked as politely as I could.

"McGonagall wants to see us all in her office right away," he said carelessly. "Something about the dance. I think the teachers have reached a decision."

"Oh, okay," I said, standing up and smoothing out my shirt. "Right."

"I was told to fetch you," Jonathon clarified. "So I might as well come with you."

"Of course," said James. His tone was pleasant enough, but I could sense disgust underneath it. I wonder if Jonathon could hear it too – he certainly didn't act like he did.

With these preliminaries out of the way, we were left with silence as we exited out of the pub, the three of us together. I lingered close to James's side, but Jonathon lingered close to mine, leading to a very awkward line of three in which I was stuck in the middle.

I tried to discreetly give Jonathon the hint that I wanted to walk with James, since I'd come with him to the village, but again, Jonathon didn't act like he got the message. He lingered near me even when I met his eyes pointedly, which told me two things – one, Jonathon was a dense arse and I couldn't believe he'd wanted to be my boyfriend back in January, and two, he wanted to talk to me alone.

So…unfortunately, I decided to oblige him.

Gently moving away from James with a meaningful look and a little head-jerk towards the blonde prefect, I fell into step with Jonathon. I don't know what I expected, but it certainly wasn't a self-satisfied smile on his face, followed by a delicate cough and the question, "So…Lily, how are you?"

Startled, I said, "Fine, thanks. How about you?"

"All right," he said. "So…you're dating Head Boy James now, are you?"

Rather an abrupt question, I thought grumpily to myself. Of course this was why he wanted to walk with me. He wanted to know about James. Him and the rest of the world.

"Yes," I said cautiously, not looking at him. "I am."

"That's cool," he said in a voice that was also very cool. "So…it's going well, I presume?"

"What?"

"The relationship," he clarified, going the slightest bit pink. "It's going well?"

"Yes," I said. "It is."

"And…you're happy?" he asked.

"I am," I confirmed.

"That's good," he said somewhat genuinely. "So you're really into him, huh?"

"Yes, very much so," I said.

"So I was right," Jonathon concluded. "You didn't want to be in a relationship with me because you were in love with James."

I colored bright pink. "It wasn't anything like that…"

"It was and it's okay – I mean, I'm over it now," he said. "I just…wanted to know. Get some closure, that sort of thing."

"Jonathon," I said gently. "I didn't say no to you because of any conflicting interests. I said no to you because at the time, I wasn't ready for a relationship with anyone."

"Just my luck, then, that when you're ready for a relationship, I miss my shot," remarked Jonathon.

I appraised him with a look. "Don't sound so bitter. I've seen you around with all your various female companions. I'd bet a significant amount of money that you're getting on just fine without me."

"I try, my dear, I try," said Jonathon dramatically, giving me a lazy smirk. I laughed and gave him a nudge with my shoulder.

"I'm happy and you're happy," I said. "Let's focus on that."

With this, we got up to the castle steps, me and Jonathon facing each other and James closely bringing up the rear. Jonathon sighed, but gave me a real smile and said, "Sure thing, Lily."

"Okay," I said, grinning. "Now run on in. We'll be right behind you."

This time, Jonathon was forced to accept the hint and walked off into the castle. I turned around to see the guy I'd chosen grinning up at me so genuinely, he seemed to eclipse the sun itself.

We didn't have to say anything. He just bounded up the steps to stand beside me, his fingers intertwined with mine and squeezing my hand tightly. Then, with James's overly-athletic legs leading the way, we ran into the front doors, up the various staircases, and through the corridors to get us to McGonagall's office.

Like the last time we were late, we burst in breathlessly, our lungs ready to tear, our muscles aching and our hands still interlocked, and the reactions were two-fold. The already-present prefects snickered – second time in a row! – and McGonagall sighed piteously at us.

"Mr. Potter and Miss Evans, we may need to reconsider your leadership positions, if this is what your punctuality is defined as," said McGonagall with the slightest hint of sarcasm. "Please take your seats."

The two of us blushed appropriately and sat down, exchanging grins with each other and the prefects. They, already being aware through the copious grapevine of our couple-hood, nodded understandingly and then turned their attentions to McGonagall, who was standing up, observing us all.

"So…I brought up the topic of your dance with the rest of the staff," she informed us. "And, after much talk and consideration, we have decided to grant your request. Hogwarts will have an inter-house dance the day before the student body is sent home."

At this, we all cheered and screamed and laughed and stomped, utterly delighted by our victory. Mavis hugged Annie Potent and Will wolf-whistled almost too loudly to be normal. It wasn't like we hadn't expected as such – because we did – but it was still exhilarating to be given the official okay from Professor McGonagall, seen by many as the antithesis of fun and excitement.

"However," she called out over the din of happy students, "I must remind you that you are all on your own. Everything that must be done will be done through you. Assistance, if necessary, shall be provided upon request. Otherwise, your Heads – responsible as they are (we got a significant look here, to which we blushed) – will be your main authorities. It goes without saying that you are being given the utmost trust and we would hate to see you lose it."

"Thank you so much, Professor!" hollered Trey Miller with a wide grin.

McGonagall half-smiled at Trey, similar in appearance but softer in the eyes, and said, "I sincerely hope this goes off well. Please don't give me reason to regret letting you have this privilege."

"Don't worry about a thing, Professor," Annie Potent promised firmly, her eyes like fire behind her black-rimmed glasses. "We will not let you down."

McGonagall nodded, bid us well, and dismissed us from her office. We all got up and retreated to our common rooms, since none of us were in the mood to take the necessary walk to the village.

On the way out, Kate, Abigail and Michael talked (however unwillingly) about putting up the collection tin up the following morning, at breakfast, and posting bright, cheerful, flashy signs to catch people's attentions. Annie, meanwhile, told Trey, Mavis, Will and Jonathon to start looking for decoration places and talk to her about it over the next week or so.

Somewhere in me, I felt vaguely guilty for not doing my part to help out; but as I watched the prefects promise each other to do their share of the work, I didn't feel so guilty anymore. They really _wanted _to do everything themselves. It meant a lot to them, being part of this dance. Annie Potent was throwing herself into the midst of it all, playing organizer for James and I without needing to be asked, and the prefects were responding well to her leadership, since they actually cared about the issue at hand. They didn't need us to do anything for them – so I walked out of there without another real responsibility on my head, which was a merciful thing.

"So…we're having a dance in June, Lily," James said with a grin once we were away from the other prefects. Only now did he allow his giddiness to make its full appearance. I guess he'd been too embarrassed to let the prefects see it. "Isn't this exciting?"

"Yeah," I said, grinning back. "It is. I can't wait."

"Just to make sure – you will be my date, right?" James asked, his innocently hazel eyes boring into my green ones.

"Of course I will, silly," I said, thumping the side of his head with my palm. "What, who else am I going to go with?"

"I dunno…in a group of girls who don't want me around?"

I snorted. "Yeah, like there's a group of girls in this school that _don't _want you around."

"You know what I mean," said James.

"No, I don't, but I know what you're going for." I smirked at him and gave him another thump on the head. "Yes, I'll go with you to the dance. We could make it a double date, if you want to include Alice and Frank."

"Sounds good," he said genuinely. "Okay."

"Are you appeased now?" I teased.

"Yes," he said, slipping his arm around my waist and giving me a squeeze. "Thanks."

I nudged him with my hip. "No problem."

And, in this stupid, childish fashion – literally attached at the hip – James and I came upstairs to our dormitories and went our separate ways. I picked up my books, with full and honorable intentions of going to study with Alice, but I decided to write in this diary first, just because I hadn't been able to finish my entry this morning. _Now _I will act upon my full and honorable intentions to study with Alice. We've got plenty to do, and on top of all that, Alice has to tutor Frank on what we've been doing in Transfiguration lately, because he's completely lost. I hope she's started on that in my absence.

I'd better go now. Until later, then, I guess…

--

A/N: If you've been keeping up with dates and know your trivia, you should already be able to piece together what's happening next chapter. I'll just confirm for you now, though, that it will be very, very sweet and will involve another major milestone. Yay!

Someone asked me when Sirius was making another cameo. It'll actually be next chapter. General Marauder mayhem (missing from this story thus far because I've tried to let the boys be mature) will make a cameo in the chapter after. Fun, fun, fun.

I feel guilty about all the fluff – really, I do, because I know as well as the next person that too much relationship-sunshine is frustrating – but I promise, a couple more chapters and we'll get some more interesting development on the romance front. Siriusly.

Otherwise…erm…please review on your way out of the browser! See you next chapter!


	55. I Commence Operation MIUTJFFHB

A/N: Coming up this chapter…

Fluff.  
Amusement.  
Fluff.  
Embarrassment.  
Fluff.  
Guilt.  
Fluff.  
Sirius.

And then some more fluff. Fluff, fluff, fluff. You're going to have fluff pouring out of your ears by the time this one's over. Have you booked that dentist's appointment yet? You're going to need it.

This chapter, you should listen to: _She's Got You High_, by Mumm-Ra; _Sweet Disposition_, by the Temper Trap; _Stolen_, by Dashboard Confessional; _First Time_ and _Spin_, both by Lifehouse.

Enjoy.

--

March 27

**10:00 AM**  
_Status_: Horrified

I would like to take this opportunity, on this fine Monday morning, to say that I am a dolt – completely, utterly, and truly.

Honestly. I deserve to be struck by lightning, turned into a Lily-stick (an alternate form of fish-sticks) and fed to hungry crocodiles. Or sharks. Some water-dwelling animal with enormous teeth and the ability to put me in a lot of pain, anyway.

Why?

Because today is James Potter's eighteenth birthday…

…_and I forgot!_

Merlin's beard, I forgot. Can you believe me?

Of course, I mean, it's not like I was maliciously lazing about, eating grapes and admiring my own reflection. I've been really busy with another wash of homework – and with Livvy's steady silent treatment (now running into its second week), I've been the slightest bit lonely, tired.

I am fully aware that there are other people who care about me enough to stick by me, but it's still horrible, seeing someone who's supposed to be your friend pretend like you're someone else, another stranger, when you know you're everything but. It takes a surprising amount out of you, having this whole dilemma hanging over your poor head, which has too much else to deal with already.

Of course, I know this is absolutely no excuse. I mean, James and I are like boyfriend-girlfriend now. How can his new girlfriend forget his _birthday_, of all things? Even if she does happen to be busy? Everyone's busy, but they haven't forgotten his birthday. Only I have.

I figured it out during first period today. I walked in with Alice after breakfast as usual, chattering about something or another, when I saw the Marauders laughing particularly loudly in the back corner of the classroom. Peter was hugging James and Sirius was grinning widely, resting his arm on Remus's shoulder.

I was about to ask what was going on when Sirius answered my question indirectly, presenting his friend with an enormous, brightly-colored party hat – complete with baubles, small exploding crackers, and a huge magenta flower – and loudly said, "Happy birthday, mate!"

At this, I immediately froze. Birthday. _Birthday_. I searched my memory bank, and indeed, it came up with James's birthday on the twenty-seventh of March. Which is the date today.

_Bollocks_. My strike-me-with-lightning-and-feed-me-to-oceanic-creatures thoughts were thus born and guilt bubbled in my stomach like a potion gone horribly wrong.

I mean, not only am I his girlfriend, but he had made such a huge hullabaloo for _my _birthday, back in January, when we weren't even dating. And now, to reciprocate, I had completely forgotten his special day. I hadn't even gotten him a present.

_Fuck_.

As the boys hugged it out and James aw-shucked all their well-wishes with a wave of his hand, I sat in my seat and squirmed, thinking fast and wondering what the hell I was supposed to do. I had to get him _something_, but the Hogsmeade weekend just passed and I don't know how to get in without getting caught. That rules out buying him a present – and it'd feel weird if I gave him something of mine, because it would become heavily obvious that I couldn't be bothered to get him something worth having.

Damn. The situation was extremely bad. I had to do something about it.

Luckily, though, James didn't get a chance to talk to me during the beginning part of the class period. He was too busy smirking with his friends and letting Sirius poke the baubles on his party hat. That gave me some time to think about the dilemma, think about what I'm going to do.

I didn't get far, I can say that much. But once class was over, James carefully detached himself from his friends and caught me on my way out the door.

"Hey, Lils!" he said cheerfully, arms out for a hug. "Good morning!"

"Hey!" I forced myself to be cheerful, smiley – and admittedly, it's not hard when you're looking at someone as buoyant and lovable as James – and gave him a hug. "Happy birthday!"

"Thanks," he said, giddy.

"Eighteen, huh?" I asked (despite knowing the answer already) as we walked down the corridor together.

"Yep," he confirmed proudly.

"So when's the big birthday party?"

Mentally, I told myself I'd beg Sirius to take me to Hogsmeade and get him something nice, which I'd give him at the party. Everything would be okay. Perfect, in fact.

But James just gave me a look.

"What party?" he asked.

"Aren't you having one?" I backtracked.

"No," said James. "I mean, normally, I would, but this year, there's a lot going on. There's no time. Exams to worry about, homework to keep up with, that sort of thing. You know?"

"Oh," I said, deflating just a little bit. "I see."

"I don't mind a quiet birthday though," he said, putting his arm around my shoulder. "I get to patrol with you tonight, and I'll have the guys all evening today, and that's all I really need."

"You sure?" This notion of having a quiet birthday struck me as highly bizarre, seeing as I'm the one who likes quiet birthdays and James likes the loud ones.

"Yeah," he said easily. "Don't worry about me, Lily. Honest."

"Okay…" I said it vaguely, not committing to any viewpoint, and James smoothly transitioned us onto another conversation point. I followed along, but really, the wheels in my brain were chug-a-lugging, an idea beginning to form somewhere inside my head. I was about a million miles away, wondering if maybe, just maybe…

We got to second period – where I am now – and we are sitting in our seats. I sit on the opposite side of the room from James. At the moment, he is trying (and failing) to pay close attention, while Sirius is absently doodling something on his parchment. Sirius is the one I'm more interested in though. I need to talk to him the moment class is over – which is actually in about two minutes – and make my ideas known. It would rot and die if left to my devices. It needs development from an outside source if it wants to go anywhere.

I'd best go now. Sirius is beginning to pack up. I need to demand – ahem, request – a word and tell him my plan. I'll write again once I find out how that goes.

Wish me luck. Operation Making-it-up-to-James-for-Forgetting-his-Birthday (i.e. Operation MIUTJFFHB) has officially begun.

**11:05 AM**  
_Status_: Pleased

Okay…so I talked to Sirius after last period. It wasn't hard to get him alone. I just said I had to speak to him privately about something and he told the Marauders he would meet them in a few minutes, obligingly joining me and eyeing me with that look of his, earnest and serious and almost eerily focused on me. I don't think I'll ever get over how he does that. But I launched into my proposal all the same.

"So…James told me he's not having a birthday party this year," I said.

"Yeah, he told us that too," confirmed Sirius. "We've been banned from planning one – a commitment we do, unfortunately, have to honor. Part of the Marauder code."

"I'm thinking we – as in you, me, Peter, and Remus – should give him one anyway," I said boldly. "A party, I mean. On Saturday. It's April Fool's Day – his favorite day of the year, besides his birthday – and we'll make it a big deal."

Sirius stares at me a second, as though considering my offer, and then his handsome face breaks into a wide grin.

"You know, Lily, I like the way you think," he said conversationally, admiringly, as we walked together down the corridor. "You're right. Screw what James wants. He's getting a party and he's going to love it. And if he doesn't…a few shots should do the trick."

I chuckled. "If you say so, Sirius. So…can you do all the illegal break-ins into Hogsmeade? I can do anything and everything else."

"My pleasure." Sirius gave me a mischievous smile. "Just one more thing."

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to make it a big deal…or a _really _big deal?" he asked.

I mulled this one over for a few seconds.

"A really big deal," I said. "Pull out every stop. If there were any to begin with."

Sirius gave me a high-five.

"You are my favorite out of all of James's girlfriends," he said approvingly.

I blushed. "Thanks."

"So…I'll get the stuff and let you know what else needs to be done," said Sirius. "For now, just make sure he hasn't a clue. He probably won't, the brainless twat."

I wanted to give him a playful nudge for this slight, but he uttered the insult with such warm, genuine affection that all I could do was chuckle.

"All right," I said. "Sounds good."

"Cheers." Sirius gave me a wink and a nod of his head, sauntering away to harass another friend of his. I sprinted up the corridor a little, found Alice, and now we're sitting in class. She sits next to me here and is constantly trying to figure out what I'm doing. She's craning her neck to read over my arm as I write these very lines, in fact. It's quite irksome, if I'm honest. She can tell when I'm keeping something from her.

Ah, well. Might as well give in and let her read what was going on in my head all morning. We'll get some good discussion going, at the very, _very _least.

-

_How the bloody hell did you forget his birthday?? –A_

Weren't you reading? Rubbish was going on and it slipped my mind completely. And I'm sorry about it. Hence Operation MIUTJFFHB. –L

_I know…still. Frank's birthday is June sixth and I could state it under torture. –A_

Excusing my poor memory skills, what do you think of my idea? For the party with Sirius? –L

_I think it's cute. And it sounds like fun. If you need my help, let me know. –A_

Thanks. And yeah, I will. –L

_But, Lily, his __birthday__? –A_

Oh, shove off, Alice. –L

So much for good discussion…

-

**11:00 PM**  
_Status_: Trying not to implode

So…I'm just going to jump straight into it, starting from the beginning, because if I don't, I might combust. I might unravel completely and I don't want that. I want to savor the details, put myself in a headlock on the ground before I fly up and away. I want to find control again – because I'm losing it. Fast.

Here's what happened.

All day, James and I hung around each other intermittently, walking and talking and, in the case of Potions, trying to figure out why James's potion was a bright, bubbling green when it should've been silver with a slight vapor. Very casual, very normal. But as we did all the things we normally do – as I included James in the conversations that have only ever been mine and Alice's – I felt guilty (again) for forgetting his birthday.

I mean, I knew I'd set Operation MIUTJFFHB into play, and everything was going to be fine, but still. It's his eighteenth birthday _today_, not Saturday. I wanted to make it special.

After much agonizing, thinking, and asking for/regretting asking for Alice's help, I decided to do something simple. I left five minutes early for patrol, stopped by the kitchens, and picked him up a birthday cupcake. It was chocolate, topped with chocolate frosting and multi-colored sprinkles. I stuck a little blue candle in the middle like a flag.

When I got close to the spot where we always met, I lit it with my wand and turned the corner. James was there, waiting for me. At first, he was confused to see the little cupcake in my hand; but when he realized what it was, he smiled tremendously and his eyes smoldered as though I'd lit them with my wand too.

"Aww, is that for me?" he asked, eyeing the cupcake in my hands.

"Yes," I said shyly. "See…I have a confession to make. Before this morning, I kind of forgot that today was your birthday. I felt awful about it – really, really awful – and I wanted to make it up to you, but I didn't know how. So I guess this cupcake is my meager, pathetic, on-a-moment's-notice way of saying happy birthday, James. I hope you had a lovely day."

James's cheeks – and ears – went pink at this.

"It's not a big deal," he said. "You didn't have to feel bad."

"It is a big deal," I said. "And I'm sorry. There's just been a lot going on lately, school-wise and Livvy-wise, and it totally slipped my mind. It's no excuse, though."

James came forward and hugged me gingerly, so as not to disturb the cupcake. "Nah, Lils, I'm not being heroic or anything – it really isn't a big deal," he said. "I kept forgetting it was my birthday too. There's a lot going on. I understand."

"No matter how many times you say that, I won't let it go," I pointed out wryly. "So…instead of arguing with me, why don't we skive off patrol – I already told Mavis and Jonathon to take care of it for us – and you can eat your cupcake and we can just…do nothing?"

James's smile was the epitome of sunny sweetness as he said, "You know, that sounds perfect. Let's do that."

I could feel something vast and happy fill me up like warm butterbeer, my mouth melting into the same shape as his. "Okay."

So, together, we walked out to a quiet alcove at the very back of the sixth floor, where we settled in on the floor and I presented James with his cupcake. He grinned and accepted it. I insisted on singing him happy birthday before he blew out the single candle and commented on my hideous singing. Very silly.

But afterwards, the giggly atmosphere calmed down, as James and I settled in next to each other, shoulders touching, and I watched him eat his cupcake. He offered to give me a bite, and my sweet tooth was more than tempted, but I resisted and told him to have his birthday treat. It was his day, not mine. So he ate it – licking all the icing off first, then eating the cake part – and we talked.

"You know, at home," he was saying at some point when the cupcake was almost finished, "when I celebrated my birthday, my mum always had this tradition. She was a horrible cook – still is – and whenever my birthday date came closer, she would insist on making my birthday cake for me. My dad (who loves cake as much as I do) and I would try to deter her – begging, pleading, bribing, blackmailing, anonymous notes, dismantling the kitchen, stealing ingredients – but she wouldn't budge. She made it anyway. And it was always awful and Dad would always sneak out to the shop and get a proper, edible cake."

I laughed. "Really?"

"Yeah," he said, smirking at the thought of it. "And every year, we buried Mum's cake in the backyard, hoping it wouldn't be as toxic for the grass as it was for us humans."

"Your poor mother," I said.

"She didn't mind," said James. "She knew she couldn't cook. There was always a point in the begging scheme when I got down on my knees and pleaded with her not to make the cake, and she would ruffle my hair and say, 'It's all out of love, Jamie.' And then she'd give me a kick in the pants and flounce off."

I smiled, but in my head, I was made fragile by a sudden image of young James – likely with the same full head of sheep-dog hair – arguing with his mother about birthday cake. I've never met Mrs. Potter, but I'm sure she's beautiful. She has to be, because James's gene pool, looking at him now, was clearly a good one.

"You're close to your parents then," I said.

"Have to be," he responded with another smirk. "I'm an only child, so they're all I've got, and vice versa."

"Have you ever wanted a sibling?" I asked.

"Oh yeah," he said. "My mum said that when I was four, I invented an imaginary older brother for myself. He only lasted until I was five or six, but apparently he was involved in every family decision and slept in my room every night."

"Must've been the slightest bit lonely," I mused. "I wouldn't know, obviously – I have an older sister – but I'd imagine it would be odd, not having anyone near your age in the house to talk to."

"What's the age difference between you and your sister?"

"Two years," I said. "She did everything first and I could've sworn she knew everything. We were inseparable, did everything together. When my parents asked what we were up to, we'd answer, 'Girl stuff.' She taught me how to tie my shoes and we practically lived at the park in the summers."

"This is the sister that's getting married, I presume?" he inquired.

"Yes," I said. "Petunia. Clearly, my parents were avid gardeners before we were born. Petunia was named for my mother's favorite flower and I was named for my father's. But as we grew up, they quickly figured out that two little girls who loved playing outside were not conducive to a good gardening environment. They've all but given up on it now."

"That's nice," he said genuinely. "I was named after my great-grandfather on my dad's side. He lived an obscenely long time – over a hundred years – and my mum was pregnant with me when he began fading away. He asked her on his deathbed to name me after him. She didn't want to dishonor a dying man's wish, so when I was born a couple of months later, voila! My name became James."

"See, that's an honorable place to get your name from," I said. "I was named after a bloody _flower_. When I was born, my dad's life was consumed not by his older daughter but his little grove of lilies in the backyard. Hence…I became Lily."

"Well, _I_ think it's a pretty name," James assured me, giving my foot a nudge with his. "You had an interesting childhood."

"I was an innocent, sheltered baby girl," I said, nudging him back. "I didn't know anything about anything – that mattered, anyway. Then I came here. Talk about a culture shock."

James laughed. "I grew up the trouble-maker. My parents both come from huge families with at least five or six siblings – hence why they mutually decided on a very small family – and at family functions, I was one of too many little kids. Our goals in life were to prove we were different, special, interesting – that we could stand out in the crowd. I discovered I had a natural gift of demanding attention with my frequently noisy antics. That didn't change much when I came here."

I snorted. "Clearly not."

He pretended to become extremely miffed by the "tone of my snort" – a literal quote, I swear – and we sat around together, teasing and poking each other in a fantastically childish display of affection. Pretty soon, we were touching everywhere – our arms linked together, my head on his shoulder, our legs side-by-side, our feet playing footsie games.

It was very simple, very casual, like everything about us seems to be. Not for the first time, I marveled at how easy it was to be around him, how easy it was to let him hold me, tell me things and play the aforementioned footsie games. I was nervous as hell to get into this relationship mostly because I didn't know how it would go…and now it seems silly to look back at all my worries, all my lamentations and fears.

All year, slowly and carefully, James has been trying to prove himself to me. He wanted me to see what I see now – that our whole relationship before this year was one big fat misunderstanding further complicated by the violent, irrational, black-and-white emotions so characteristic of children.

We are not the people we thought we were. And now, a few years too late, we know that. We started over and I swear, it should be illegal to be as happy as I am when I'm around him. It's like floating on air when you know you were always meant to be on the ground. It's wrong in all the right, wonderful ways.

This feeling – so foreign to me, deep and frothy and bold as it is – filled me up slowly but surely through the duration off our "patrol." We laughed and talked and sighed and all I could do was think about how much I cared about him. I've never had a boyfriend who made me feel that way – who put me in such good spirits just by lying around and letting me look at him – and I like that he's the first to make me feel like that. Emotion-wise, he's always been a bit of a first for me.

When our time to "patrol" was almost over, James checked his watch and said, "We've got about five minutes."

"You want to stay or leave?" I asked. "We don't have to be anywhere and it _is _your birthday after all."

"I don't care," he said. "But…thanks, Lils."

"What for?" I was sincerely befuddled.

"For…getting me this cupcake," he said, holding up the paper. "For sitting in this alcove with me for, like, an hour. For…just being here."

I smiled shyly. "Well…did you have a nice birthday? Despite the fact that there was no party?"

"I did," he said. "The best of my life."

I bit my lip and just looked at him for a second. The hazel eyes, with those long, almost feminine eyelashes. The long nose with the small bump near the bridge from when he broke it in fourth year. The ears, which were a nice size and always got so red when I embarrassed him. And the lips – full, lovely, such a healthy pink.

And then, just like that, I did something that changed everything; that altered the early, fragile state of our relationship in a way I could never have foreseen.

I have ample time to reflect on it now, after the matter, and obsessively dissect what I was thinking at the time; but in the moment itself, I _didn't _think. I didn't obsessively dissect. I didn't consider the pros and cons, or talk to Alice, or do any of those cautionary things I usually do before I do something big.

I was caught up in the heat of the moment, in that face I know so well, that has changed so much, and not a single rational thought passed through my head. My emotions took over for my brain, swiftly and quietly instead of loudly raising a coup, and I did the impossible.

I leaned in towards that face, closed my eyes, and lightly-but-surely kissed those full, lovely, healthy-pink lips of his for barely a second and a half.

Brief though it was, I did it – I kissed him for the very first time – and then my eyes opened. It was over and that face – now stunned – filled my line of vision.

"That was a birthday kiss," I said softly.

"I see," he said, equally soft.

The air was thick and awkward then, the two of us with our faces so close, my eyes averted down, not speaking or kissing or anything. It was an in-between place, residing somewhere in the wide gulfs between Nothing and Something and Everything.

Acutely, I knew that everything hung on that moment, on what we did next; but I had already taken the first step. I didn't even know if he wanted me to kiss him. So I waited, lingered, wondering if he would take the next step or take a step back, if he would claim me or let me go. The thick seconds ticked, as we remained in that weird, awkward place, so close but not quite close enough.

Just as I was about to pull away, though, I felt that air shift. I felt his body move – his hand, his face – and then, all of a sudden, we were kissing again.

This time, though, was nothing like my soft little introduction. This time, James kissed me deeply, quite fearlessly, and there I was, trying to simultaneously work out if we were really kissing and attempting to kiss him back.

It's a terrifying experience, a first kiss. It's your first entry into uncharted waters, that huge physical milestone, where you show the other person you want them not in one way, but every way. That first kiss is an exploration, a declaration. It's truly a promise; it's a pact, something that's intensely private and _yours_. All yours.

I don't know what I expected out of our first kiss, but it certainly wasn't what I had anticipated. It was fierce, full of pent-up I-don't-even-know-what, but it was still smooth and sweet, gliding along and leaving me breathless without overwhelming me. Plus, thanks to the cupcake, James tasted a little like chocolate frosting. That only added to the sweetness of the experience as a whole.

He was not groping, not squeezing me tight or anything tough, but his hand on my back was firm, solid. We did not use any tongue, but the motions of our mouths moved quickly, in sync, as though holding still too long would break the magic of this harried, awkward, bumbling first time.

We did not know how to touch yet. We did not know how to kiss. We were strangers to this physical aspect of a relationship; but tonight, we were learning. Tonight, we gave this a trial run and it felt good. No, it felt more than good. It felt _right_, natural, like what we were doing was part of some unwritten secret progression we knew nothing about.

The time was quickly forgotten, the seconds stretching themselves out in front of us like a red carpet of honor, as we sat in our little alcove, kissing with that determined calm. My head was empty, my world utterly upside down, and he was the center of my universe. It was everything I wanted and more. Too much more.

Eventually, though, thoughts began filtering slowly into my shaken brain and I gently broke our kiss, my mouth somehow numb. It was only when I slowly began to open my eyes that I realized how tightly I'd been squeezing them shut. One more time, James's face filled up the entirety of my line of vision. His expression was indecipherable.

"Happy birthday," I whispered.

He said nothing, but the warmth flooded into those features of his and I could feel it seeping into me as well. Wordlessly, I stood up and offered him my hand. He took it and came to his feet as well, his hand still holding mine, and we silently walked upstairs to our dormitories – where I am currently now sitting, on my bed, trying to remember how to breathe, writing about all this.

To be honest, though, I can't go into any more detail than what I just described. I just can't. Even coming back to it a second time, my feelings are raw and muddled and sharp and I don't know how to translate something so rough and magical into English. I could never do it justice. I can barely believe it's _happened_. I don't even want to tell Alice for a day or two, because I want to let it settle in my head as reality, as something that did _happen_, before I let her in on the secret. I want to mull it over and live with it before I decide to turn the information into anything else.

My chest is too full to continue on any longer. I need to sleep, maybe toss and turn and think for a few hours. For now, this goes beyond words. It goes beyond everything I've ever known. I feel like I've been hit by a train.

I'll write again when some of the impact damage has lessened. I promise.

--

A/N: Coming up in the next three chapters…

Snogging aftermath.  
Marauder mayhem.  
Jumping into the unknown.  
Changing family dynamics.  
Lots of planning. For stuff.  
A Livvy-related tragedy.  
_Drama_.

Review and we'll get right on that, yeah?


	56. I Wrap Up Operation MIUTJFFHB

A/N: A couple of people have brought up the fact that I haven't really let on a lot about the war against Voldemort in this story. While that's true – I've kept the Dark activity to a whisper thus far – I promise, there is going to be a larger focus on the war in upcoming chapters. I have not forgotten about that aspect of the story. I've just been biding my time until I brought that up in full, heavy force. So…trust me. It's coming. Much sooner than you think, actually. I just want to keep its entrance a surprise.

And, by the way, epic thanks to _Niki_ for helping me come up with evil April Fool's Day pranks. My brain doesn't work like that, but hers does – which is awesome for me. Thanks, as ever, for knowing what to do when I don't, darling.

Otherwise, this chapter is really long and more fluff-tastic fun (say it with me: blegh) and you should enjoy it. Next chapter is a bit of filler, then we head into tragic waters. Yay!

Go on, then, and I hope this all works out for you.

--

April 1

**9:05 AM**  
_Status_: Slightly nervous

Happy April Fool's Day!

That's the first thing Alice said to me this morning when she came to wake me up. It's the mantra that's been haunting my head for the time I've been awake thus far, as I got dressed, cautiously had breakfast, and came here to Charms.

Happy April Fool's Day.

Truly, I have every reason to be nervous.

Firstly, there is the tail-end of Operation MIUTJFFHB, which is the birthday party Sirius and I are planning for James. It's taking place tonight, thanks to Sirius's record-breaking planning skills: the Gryffindors have been informed and also sworn to secrecy, the food has been secretly retrieved and stored in the boy's dorm, all the drinks and fireworks and goodness-knows-what in place. The Marauders and I are set to go; but I, being me, am absolutely positive something will go wrong.

Sirius has been great – he took care of almost everything – and my only job is to lure James to the common room tonight, but I can't help it. I'm paranoid by experience.

Secondly, well…come on. It's _April Fool's Day_. This has been the Marauders' favorite holiday for as long as I've known them, even more than Christmas or Halloween. This is the day they wait for scrupulously every year, because it's the one day in the year where they can happily play all the pranks they want and nobody minds as much.

Over the years, we have had near catastrophes occur on April Fool's Day that were happily traced back to the Marauders and their unquenchable thirst for trouble.

I think I smell the need for a year-by-year history of the Marauders' Greatest April Fool's Day Hits to enhance the point I've been making, so…

**The Marauders' Greatest April Fool's Day Hits  
**A list compiled by: Lily Evans

**Year 1**

First year was on the quieter side, seeing as the Marauders were not yet the tight-knit group they would soon be. Back then, it was just Sirius and James, and they decided to keep it on the simple: they hid under an Invisibility Cloak and ran around the corridors tripping people, hexing them, tugging on their robes or throwing Dungbombs at them. These early antics were very silly, very immature, and very unprofessional – but little did we know they would be further refined in future years.

**Year 2**

This year, Remus and Peter were fortunate enough to make the cut as Sirius and James' New Best Friends and played accomplice to their latest harebrained ideas. Being as House-oriented then as now, their pranks zoomed in a little more on the Slytherins this time. Somehow, someway, they managed to get their hands on the shampoo of the Slytherins in our year and switched with temporary hair-removal potion from Zonko's. Needless to say, there were many angry (and bald) Slytherins walking around all day and the Marauders were cheerfully awarded detention for their antics. They took it with honors.

**Year 3**

By now, the Marauders had already established themselves as legends. Therefore, there were many copy-cats walking around, trying to do the things they'd been doing in the previous years and attempting to upgrade them. Dismayed at the apparent copyright infringement, the boys decided to take a different approach this year – they cross-dressed. Borrowing clothes and make-up from Sirius's then-girlfriend, Jennifer Hartley, the four boys walked around looking like four girls. It garnered too many laughs throughout the day and I, already scornful of them, complained liberally that they could get away with such idiotic tricks. Even Professor McGonagall had a small and rare chuckle during class when she saw it. Where was the justice?

**Year 4**

Out of all the countless pranks the Marauders have played in their time at Hogwarts, their fourth-year April Fool's Day prank was likely the maddest and most dangerous they had devised. The school walked into breakfast, unsure of what to expect of our insane Marauders this time, and all was well for about half the period. However, at that half-way point, the Marauders leapt out of their seats like trained ninja warriors and put their wands to the temples of clearly pre-selected hostages. It was like a Muggle hold-up on television – certainly all the Muggleborns were intrigued/a little frightened.

The teachers, sitting at the High Table, immediately called for order, but the Marauders were relentless. Sirius and James took the hostages – and the teachers – on a high-speed chase throughout the school, protected by a Shield Charm and putting various hexes on their victims. Meanwhile, Peter and Remus put off a great deal of Fireworks – a small fortune's worth from Zonko's – and the student body was torn between watching James and Sirius fly around the roof of the castle with their hostages or enjoying the fireworks display. Either way, you got to witness mass mayhem. No classes could be held for two periods – that's how long it took to finally corner the Marauders, award them detention for every weekend until the end of the year, and get the school back in order.

Among the witnesses, this was hands-down our favorite April Fool's Day joke. (But ask the Slytherins and you may get a slightly different response.)

**Year 5**

After what happened last year, much of the school (particularly the Slytherins) was suspicious walking into breakfast this year, unsure of what to expect, but nothing happened. The boys were cheerfully eating breakfast as usual, like any other day. The morning passed by in a suspicious kind of calm, with everyone jumpy and watching at corners for some Marauder to do something insane. No such insanity came to pass, though…until lunch.

During lunch, students may, if they are finished eating, sit in the library and do homework. No one thought anything of them as they trooped off in clumps to the library, books in their arms, and lunch continued. However, somewhere in the middle of the period, a little first-year ready to faint with horror, interrupted McGonagall as she ate her steak-and-kidney pie and made her come with him to the library. Our interest piqued, we who were well-acquainted with the Marauders' April Fool's fetish followed along after her.

The library was mayhem. Animals – pigs, cows, chickens, lambs and the like – were wandering around the bookshelves, making a great deal of noise as Madam Pince furiously and vehemently threw hexes at them, screaming at them to get out of her precious library. The scared, tearful little first-year tried bitterly to explain that all he'd wanted to do was sit down, when all of a sudden, his chair turned into a hen and he fell to the floor.

It took her a while – somehow, the Marauders made the animals multiply by two if hit with common hexes – but McGonagall sorted out the situation and awarded the boys double-detention. Farm animals were all people talked about for days.

**Year 6**

I will never, ever know how – unless I asked James, which I never will out of concern for my fragile sanity – but Sirius somehow got someone to send him a cage full of doxies during breakfast in the Great Hall last year. These he and the rest of his gang set all over the school while we were innocently eating breakfast – and all hell broke loose. The doxies Sirius got were particularly frisky and the teachers (to the amusement of the students) spent much of the morning shrieking and attempting to tame the doxies enough to get rid of them. The trauma is self-explanatory.

Is it any wonder that I'm nervous? Wish me luck today…I think I'm going to need it…

**1:05 PM**  
_Status_: In disbelief

Okay…so you know how I said I was nervous and I needed all the luck I could get in order to get through today?

Well, my paranoid self was on to something – because I had every reason to be on my guard this afternoon.

And now, in the comfortable lull of History of Magic, I wish to explain.

The trouble started at lunch last period.

As ever, the school filed into the Great Hall very nervous. It was the same at breakfast, but when everything was quiet there, our nervous anxiety zeroed in on lunchtime. Alice and I were conjecturing what could possibly go wrong this year – if there would even _be _a prank, because James is Head Boy and everything – and we honestly weren't sure what to expect.

The way we saw it – i.e. _I _saw it – there were two options: one, that James was too mature to indulge in petty, childish misdeeds and he would call the operation off, or two, he was so tired of being mature that he would indulge in hugely petty, childish misdeeds to gain some freedom. It really could go either way.

But, as I'm writing about it now with a tone of considerable horror, it's fairly easy to deduce that the latter option turned out to be the reality.

We were safe for quite some time in the beginning of the period. The Marauders had timed it perfectly, staging the trick a little past the half-way mark of our lunch hour to avoid suspicion. Everyone was talking and eating merrily, not thinking about the Marauders and possible trouble, and that made the element of surprise all the more potent.

I was actually finishing up my third helping of steak-and-kidney pie, complaining to Alice about the Herbology homework I had yet to complete for tomorrow, when I heard the fateful cry that started the mayhem:

"_FOOD FIGHT!"_

Heads looked up, confused and on their guard, when Sirius – who had screamed the signal – picked up an enormous helping of the exact steak-and-kidney pie I'd visited two minutes before and hit it with a jet of light from his wand. At once, the whole thing exploded, sending dollops of steak-and-kidney pie all over the students like heavy, disgusting rain.

And, just like in previous years, this was the cue for all hell to break loose.

Following Sirius's example, the other three Marauders exploded a couple of dishes and then contended themselves with throwing handfuls of food at those closest to them. Somehow, a large amount of lunch ended up on Slytherin backs, and they only redoubled their efforts, making more of a mess than before.

Of course, the teachers were outraged and trying to take order, but the Marauders knew that would happen. Mimicking their hostage idea from fourth year, Slytherin hostages drenched with food were quickly snatched up and taken on another high-speed chase through the Hogwarts corridors. Peter and Sirius were in charge of this, leaving Remus and James in the Great Hall, completely covered in slop and egging the students on.

I, personally, was being pelted by goodness-knows-what from all directions and I felt horrible. There was slimy stuff in my hair and my robes were filthy. Alice was cackling in my ear from beside me and she pushed me, making me slip and fall on my bum, even dirtier than before.

In short, I was dazed, mucky, and in utter disbelief – as referenced in my above status. And I was having a major ethics moment.

See, in times of strife (such as then) it is my job as Head Girl to help the teachers and take charge. And normally, I would do that. But I wasn't sure if I should, because it kind of was a fun break from the monotony of the day. We never do anything as exciting as food fights. Plus, I mean, it's April Fool's – did anyone expect any different?

But at the same time, come off it. The Head Boy, who was supposed to be helping me, was throwing flagons of pumpkin juice at Slytherins and laughing away about it, not in the least bit sorry. His lackeys were running around the school with hostages. It was trouble to the tenth degree and it wasn't right. I should do my job.

But _still_…it was so damn _funny._

Sighing and ducking my head as something went flying over it, I waded through the mess to find James. It wasn't easy – everyone looked the same, all covered in crap – but I did eventually spot him giving Remus a high-five, laughing his head off. Shouting his name and hoping I'd be heard above the din, I attempted to get to him without falling and he saw me – and caught me, just before I promptly fell down.

"Hey," he said, squeezing my hand as he got me to balance on my feet. "So do you love what we've done this year?"

"All Sirius's idea," said Remus, coughing and grinning at me.

"Yes, but I think it's time to put it to a stop," I said gently. "I mean, yeah, this is cute and extremely funny, but…you and me, we're Heads. We're supposed to be stopping all this, not adding to it."

James's happy face fell a little at this, as I knew it would.

"But…Lils, it's April Fool's," he said uncertainly.

"And I'm not going anti-fun Nazi on your arse, am I?" I gave him the most beseeching look I could with bits of food in my eyelashes. "C'mon. You've had your fun. Now let's call it off. Okay?"

"Sirius would not approve," commented Remus.

"I didn't think you would, either," I pointed out. "Aren't you the ethical one in this group?"

Remus shrugged. "Trust me. This was better than the other stuff Sirius had suggested. I went with the lesser of the…five evils."

I smirked at him, but turned on the charm for James, who was clearly struggling.

"C'mon," I repeated softly, touching his arm. "Call Peter and Sirius back and help me clean this up."

James sighed, still squirming and not meeting my eye, but at least he relented.

"Fine," he said reluctantly. "Moony, will you be a dear and get the others back?"

"Sure thing," said Remus, scooting off to do so.

"You're going to be the death of me, Lily Evans," James informed me, taking my hand and walking me carefully to the High Table.

I giggled. "Sorry," I said.

"Now you call them off, I can't bear to see all my hard work wasted," he proclaimed dramatically, averting his face from me. I gave him a little shove in the arm and cleared my throat.

"Hey, hey Hogwarts?" I asked tentatively, waving my arm in the air to get their attention. "Hey?"

No one paid me any attention.

"Look, I'm no good at this," I pleaded. "They're not going to listen to me. Can you do it?"

"Yes, they'll listen to you," James assured me. "Now stop being such a pussy-cat, Lils. You can do this."

"No I can't," I said.

"Well, then why are you Head Girl?" James shook his head. "C'mon. Command attention. Be assertive. You can do this, I know you can."

I chewed on my lip, toying with the idea of just letting this all go on without a care in the world, but then I decided not to.

"Hey!" I called a little louder. "Will everyone please settle down now? The food fight's over, we're through…"

But, again, no one listened to me. They were all too busy hitting each other with today's lunch.

I opened my mouth to tell James this was stupid – it was his prank, he ought to finish it – but he wordlessly squeezed my wrist and I knew he wanted me to do this myself. He wasn't going to help me. If I wanted to do what I knew was right, I had to take charge.

So, my stomach turning over in my abdominal area, I gathered together my wits, pulled my wand out of my pocket, and I hit the ceiling with a very loud Stunning Spell.

"Will everyone please _calm down_ now?" I requested as loud as I could without feeling like an idiot (which, maybe, wasn't all that loud).

But whatever it was, it did the trick – because all of a sudden, the food-throwing stopped, the students turned their heads towards me, and the vast hall was silent. The collective attention was finally on me and I felt frozen. Perfect. But I swallowed hard and begged my throat to please thaw out and not bail on me.

"Erm…so…this has all been a very amusing April Fool's Day joke, courtesy of Potter and his friends," I said, giving James a nudge. "But now, I'd like us to please get our acts together and clean this up. Wands out now – the teachers and the hostages will be back any minute and I'd like this hall cleaned by the time that comes to pass."

To my very great astonishment, I met with very little resistance on this request. At once, there were students whipping out their wands and putting things away, the messy patches of food on the floor magically cleared and sparkling once more. Older students who knew how to fix robes and hair walked around and did so. James and I quickly cleaned each other up and watched their progress, pleased with their willingness. Even James was as impressed as I.

"See, Lils, you did it," he said, putting his arm around my shoulder and giving it a squeeze. "You took charge. And they listened."

"It was your bloody prank," I reminded him dryly.

"Yeah, but it was your bloody leadership." His tone matched mine, but his eyes twinkled with mischief. "Nice work."

"Thanks," I said.

He opened his mouth to say something more, but it was at this moment that the teachers, headed by Professor McGonagall, stormed back into the hall. She, in particular, seemed surprised at the neat, orderly sight before her, but she didn't say anything on the subject. I retreated back to the Gryffindor table and the four Marauders, in sight of the entire school, stood before the High Table, waiting for their punishment.

Professor McGonagall, being their Head of House, was grimly happy to oblige this.

After giving them a stern talking-to about the merits of good behavior and denouncing their silly food fighting idea, she awarded them all double-detention and dismissed them to finish their lunch. James came to sit with me and Alice, barely holding back his laughter, and he hugged me.

"Happy now, love?" he inquired politely.

"Very," I said, giving him a light smack on the cheek.

"That was brilliant," Alice said admiringly. "You guys still have that mischievous streak in you, then?"

James and I exchanged looks and I gave him another affectionate smack.

"I think they'll always have it," I predicted. "Whether or not that's a good thing has yet to be decided."

At this point, we were all dismissed to our next class – for me, Alice and the Marauders, it's History of Magic – and now we're about five minutes from being dismissed from here too. Life has successfully gone on.

Thankfully, we have come out of yet another April Fool's Day unscathed. But I guess I shouldn't speak too soon – Sirius and I still have that party set for tonight and there's still plenty of room for trouble.

Only five more hours…

**5:40 PM**  
_Status_: Fretful

Okay, so James's party is going to take place in a little over one hour and I'm freaking out.

I'm not really sure why, but I feel like I'm forgetting to do something very important. Alice insists that this restlessness is just proof that I'm going mad, that there's nothing to worry about, Lily, so please shut up now, but I _can't_.

I just checked with Sirius about the cake. It's here and set. Peter is putting in the candles and sprinkles. Remus is making sure the music and decorations are set up. Frank has been delegated the task of getting people into the common room by seven so that when James comes, everyone is there and ready to go. Alice (who was originally given this task by Remus) is bouncing around here, in my dormitory, and trying to figure out what she wants to wear. She's undecided between the pink shirt/jeans combo, or the blue dress.

Everyone's doing what they should be and they're relaxed, excited even. But me…I'm not.

Not only do I not know what I'm going to wear, but I still don't know how I'm going to lure James to the common room tonight. I mean, he's under the impression that it's a regular night and we're patrolling later – which we're not, because I've made Mavis and Jonathon cover for us – and I'm not sure how to bring him into the common room without ruining the surprise.

I'm quite gullible – I believed James when he said he needed a sweater on my birthday – but James isn't. He'll likely be onto me if I say something like that. So what am I supposed to do?

I've asked Alice to advise me on the matter. She says just ask him to come with me to the common room because I have to show him something. He won't suspect a thing because his birthday was on Monday and we promised not to do anything for his birthday anyway. But I want to do something more creative than that and Alice thinks I'm mad.

Possible Excuses to Get James to the Common Room

1. The Alice method – just ask him to come with me because I have to show him something. The issue – he'd figure it out and the party wouldn't be a surprise anymore.

2. Tell him there's a fire-breathing dragon endangering all the Gryffindors and we need him to come save us. Although, that's kind of unlikely, so I'm sure the result would be the same as the one for the Alice method – he'll find out.

3. Have someone tell him I'm dying and need him to come watch me take my last breaths in the common room. But this one's a little morbid – and it might give him a heart attack – so I likely wouldn't try this one.

4. Put out a trail of chocolate balls leading to the common room. But that's way too obvious – then he'll know something's up and he'll deduce it's a birthday party.

5. Ask him to—

You know what? This is absolutely ridiculous. I shouldn't have to sit here coming up with pathetic, useless ideas on my own. I'm going to _make _Alice help me. I want this party to be perfect, because James is a good guy and he deserves it. Part of that perfection is making sure this whole thing is a _complete _surprise. Alice needs to be part of this.

**6:30 PM**  
_Status_: More fretful

Alice doesn't know how to lure him here and nor does she care. Her attention has turned now on getting me dressed for the party, something I haven't bothered to think about yet. As I write, she's going through my closet and complaining loudly (for the eight millionth time this year) about my lack of proper dress attire. She's swearing that she's going to take me shopping over the holidays, because this is ridiculous. And just plain sad.

She wants to give me the blue dress she decided not to wear. I have politely declined it, because he's low cut and quite short – it's not exactly my taste. She has rolled her eyes and is continuing to look. I'm still thinking about how to get James to come to the common room.

5. Ask him to sit with me in the common room and cuddle. He likes cuddling. He'd say yes…but I almost never sit down exclusively to cuddle and he'd likely figure me out. I'm like an open book, I swear. That wouldn't work.

6. Ask him to come do homework with me. But we could do that in the library, or our dorms, and we don't usually sit in the common room together in the afternoons. He's always with his friends and I'm with mine. It would strike him as odd and the whole secret would be blown, I'm sure of it.

7. Ask him to—

Yeah, I'm done. This is ridiculous. You know, I'm just going to do what Alice said – ask him straightforwardly to come with me to the common room without giving a reason – and if he figures it out, he figures it out.

Meanwhile, Alice has decided I'm going to be wearing her deep purple dress – the one I've secretly wished I was brave enough to wear, with the lacey ruffle around the fairly low neckline and the just-short-enough-to-make-me-slightly-nervous length – and I have no more say in the matter.

I think I'm going to oblige her on this one. It's a beautiful dress and the most viable choice out of all the clothes she has. And I've always wondered what I would look like in it. I guess I'd better go put it on before Alice has a proper hissy fit…

I'll write again once the party is over. Just wish me luck for the time being. I really hope it goes off okay.

**10:45 PM**  
_Status_: Breathless

Right. So…I'm back in now, back in my dormitory, still wearing Alice's purple dress (now stained with butterbeer on the thigh), my hair mussed and my lungs full of something that's not oxygen. It's been a pretty insane night – and although I'm exhausted, more than ready to sleep, I think it's important to give the Operation MIUTJFFHB saga proper closure with a description of the party.

Because, in all honesty, I had a lot of fun and reliving it again, one more time, would actually be rather nice.

Our evening shenanigans began with me fetching James for the party. Alice made sure I was dressed and presentable in her purple dress – which, you know, did look quite good on me – and then banished me to find him. The Gryffindors should already be waiting. So we left my dormitory together and then split, Alice going to the common room directly and me going to find James. He told me earlier that he'd be in the library catching up on homework, so it wasn't exactly difficult to get a hold of him.

"Hi," I said, smiling as I approached his table and sat across from him.

"Hey," he said, smiling back. "What's with the sweater?"

I glanced down briefly at the sweater I was wearing. I actually had to double back to get it when I was coming out to fetch James, because I forgot, in all my brilliance, that if I walked in wearing a dress, he would suspect something for sure and I'd feel like an idiot. So I picked up my long black sweater – the one Alice hates because she thinks it looks like something out of my grandmother's closet – and covered up my outfit with it.

But he didn't have to know that. Yet.

"It's nothing," I said, fiddling with one of the buttons. "I'm just a bit cold. I get like that when the seasons transition."

"Oh, I see," said James with a shrug, flipping over his piece of parchment. "So what's going on?"

"Are you almost done?" I asked, gesturing to the parchment.

James snickered. "Not really," he said, "but if you've got a distraction, by all means, let me have it."

I grinned perhaps a little too widely for the occasion.

"That's good news," I said, "because I actually wanted to take you up to the common room. I want to show you something."

"What?" His interest was, as always, instantly piqued.

"It's a surprise," I said. "C'mon."

I got up and held my hand out to him. Without a moment's hesitation, James packed up his bag and followed me upstairs to the common room. I admired his ready earnestness to avoid work – a habit I'm quite guilty of – but I didn't tell him so. I didn't trust myself to say anything until we arrived at the portrait hole.

I let James say the password and the portrait opened slowly, giving him time to step inside at his leisure. I lingered a little behind him – and then, just as his eyes came up to take in the scene, the entire House screamed, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JAMES!"

I could literally feel him jump with surprise, but I wrapped my arms around his neck from behind and said in his ear, "I told you I had something to show you."

I let him go and he was instantly swallowed up by the crowd, by all his friends and particularly the Marauders, as they all clamored to wish him a belated happy birthday. James was understandably dazed – much like I had been – and it made me happy to see Sirius resurrect the stupid party hat from Monday and plop it on his friend's head. Everything was pretty much as perfect as I could've wanted it.

Alice and Frank found me, high-fived me for all our hard work, and we watched James make his way around the room, attempting to thank people and give them hugs and ask how long this had been planned. We were pleased with our work. I waited about two minutes, then hunted out Sirius.

"Is the music ready?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he said. "Completely ready to go."

"Well, first, let's embarrass him by making everyone sing," I said. "I haven't forgotten about the time you did that for me."

Sirius grinned. "Sure thing, Lily," he said genuinely. "C'mon. I'll give you the microphone and you can do it yourself."

"Great."

Sirius and I snaked our way through the crowd together, Sirius holding my hand to make sure I didn't get lost or knocked over on our journey, and we reached the music station impressively unscathed. Proudly, he handed me the microphone, and true to my word, I cleared my throat to get everyone's attention. James was milling about somewhere in the middle, being patted on the back by ten different people, and he was surprised to see me up there.

"Erm…hi," I said, waving sheepishly. "So, erm, thanks, all, for coming to the party tonight – very much appreciated – and for helping to embarrass the living hell out of James. That's always a treat."

There was a ripple of appreciative laughter at this and I blushed pink.

"Well, before I leave you be to snack and dance, I have one more request," I said. "Let's embarrass the birthday boy just a little bit more with a rousing chorus of 'Happy Birthday!'"

The Gryffindors – delighted at this proposition – immediately burst into song and James went very sweetly red at the attention. As this went on, Remus and Peter brought James the cake, complete with candles and everything, and Sirius stuffed his face into the first slice. James cleaned himself off with his wand and chased Sirius around the room, but by this point, I'd already put on the music and people were already dancing, the party happily going forth despite the immaturity of the Marauders. I got myself a celebratory butterbeer and talked to Alice on the fringes of the dancing crowd, content with just watching for now.

"Look at them," I said as James and Sirius passed us by, Sirius yelping like a high-strung puppy dog and James growling at him like an evil pug dog, not far behind. "They're such idiots."

"Well, one of them _is _your boyfriend," reasoned Alice. "So I guess that makes you an idiot by association."

"I never said I wasn't," I said, sipping my drink. "But I mean, look at this. We worked so hard to throw him a birthday party and all he can do is chase Sirius around – which he does all the time anyway."

As I said this, though, James finally caught Sirius and tackled him to the ground. The two of them began to wrestle, then, cheered on by their eager party guests, and I couldn't help but laugh. Alice, however, sighed and sipped her drink quite moodily, her eyes murky, and I was confused.

"Hey, you all right?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said. "It just…feels weird that we're all here, having a good time, and Livvy is still upstairs."

As she said this, the chill that usually accompanies any thoughts of Livvy settled in my stomach and I sighed too, my mood much flatter all of a sudden.

"You're right," I said. "It does feel weird."

Livvy's silent treatment – the one that started after my walk around the lake with James – has still been going very strong, even now. She's almost always alone, unless she's talking to Lissie Elmhurst and her crowd, and when Alice was recruiting people to come to tonight's party, Livvy flatly refused. She always hated parties, always, and now she had even less reason to go, because there's nothing worse than feeling alone at a party where everyone's with someone but you. I definitely know the feeling.

Livvy's been on my mind a lot the past few days, mostly because I see her so often in the day and I have ample time in which to consider what has happened to us. It's weird: some days, I'm angry and I want to shake her, scratch her, scream in her face and call her a bitch and make her look at me; and yet, other days, I am sad and tired, so sick of feeling bad, and I want to throw her halfway across the world, never to come here again.

Alice (in one of her psychoanalytic moods) reckons this is because we never got closure – we just yelled and then walked away – but I think it's more than that. I only wish I knew what.

Alice quickly changed the subject from Livvy to happier matters after she saw the look on my face, but the thought of Livvy by herself and forsaken by the people she thought she loved lingered in my head for much longer than I'd like. I tried to move along, tried to laugh and talk and tease like I had been before, but the constant thoughts of my ex-best friend kept sobering me. I hated thinking she was alone and miserable upstairs when we were all down here and having fun. It just felt wrong. I've spent too long worrying about Livvy to drop the habit in only three weeks.

Don't get me wrong, I still had a good time at the party. Frank and Alice were very gracious about sharing their dancing time with me, and I found a few other acquaintances I didn't really talk to outside of class, and I caught glimpses of James being accosted by all the people who cared about him, which made me glad we decided to throw him this party against his wishes. The music was fun and loud, and the snacks kept bringing me back from the dance floor like the siren's song, and I was happy.

But I was even happier when, later, James finally tapped me on the shoulder and gave me a tight hug, our first one since we came into the common room.

"Hey," he said from over my shoulder.

"Hi," I said.

"Sorry, I had a hard time getting people to leave me alone," he told me, leading me off the dance floor so we could talk properly without people constantly bumping into us.

"It's fine," I said. "There are side-effects to being popular."

"I know, but I wanted to thank you," he said genuinely. "Sirius told me that you were the one who approached him to get this whole thing set up. That was nice of you."

"I told you, I felt bad that I forgot about your birthday this year," I said. "I wanted to make it up to you."

"You didn't have to," he said.

"Yes, I did, or I'd feel guilty," I said. "You made a huge deal about _my_ birthday."

James shrugged. "I still wouldn't have cared."

"_I_ would've," I said.

"Well," he said, smiling at me and tucking some of my hair behind my ear, "like I said, thanks."

I was about to say something else, but at this very moment, the fast song that was playing ended, and instead of letting the next one play, Sirius changed it to a slower, more romantic song.

"It's couples time!" he said impishly, giving James and me a wink and a thumbs-up before bouncing away for some butterbeer.

James found this very funny – he snickered away as the crowd began to pair up and cuddle on the dance floor, revolving slowly and holding each other.

"My friends have the subtlety of blunt axes," he remarked.

"Well, aren't you going to ask me to dance?" I inquired, hands on my hips.

"If you want to," said James, blushing a little.

"Of course I do," I said. "Now go on, be a gentleman and take me to the dance floor. Put your sweaty hands on my luscious purple dress and whisper lovely nothings in my ear. I definitely want you to."

James laughed softly, but led me to the dance floor, his thumb rubbing the smooth underside of my wrist, his arms around my waist as mine went around his neck. The song playing was sweet, the dimmed lights creating an almost wistful environment, and I inexplicably thought of Livvy again. The sight of her thin, tired face in my mind's eye chilled me when I otherwise felt warm and happy, being hugged by James. I sighed and even by this solitary noise, he picked up on my mood.

"What's going on?" he asked me, stroking my hair.

Not bothering to cover up my newfound melancholy, I didn't hesitate. "Livvy," I said.

James couldn't hold back a small, derisive snort at this. "Why?" he asked. "She's not here."

"And that's the problem," I said. "She was my best friend. It still hurts a lot to think that she's unhappy while I'm so…well…_happy_."

"Lily, you have to remember that she acted terribly towards you," James reminded me. "I mean, it's not like this is your fault or anything – because it isn't. Olivia's the one in the wrong, not you."

"It's like Remus suddenly throwing a fit and walking away from you, not speaking to you anymore," I said. "It doesn't matter whose fault it is. You miss them and feel for them anyway."

James sighed, somewhat frustrated; and I longed to ask him what he was thinking about, but something told me not to interrupt his thought process. He'd tell me eventually, I knew. But when he did, I was still just the slightest bit startled.

"You know what, Lils?" he said in a surprisingly determined voice. "I have no patience for Olivia. I know she was your friend, and I respect that, but I'm sick and tired of her. Yes, you're hurt because of what she did. Yes, it's not nice to know that she's miserable. But you can't keep dwelling on her just because it stinks. You've got to stop worrying about ancillary things, things that can't be fixed, when you've got so much else going on right here, right now."

I was about to say something, defend myself, but he cut me off.

"You're both guilty of the same error – living in the past," he said. "She can't stop thinking about you, Russell, and Alice; you can't stop thinking about her. And that's not right. If you want to change something, do it. Change it. If not…then move on."

"It's not that simple," I muttered.

"Maybe it's not easy, but it is simple," said James in a slightly gentler tone. "You have to let her go."

I exhaled slowly, thickly, and put my cheek on his shoulder.

"I have a hard time with that," I said honestly. "Letting people in and then letting them go. I don't like change. I don't like opening up. I just want everything to be okay, that's all."

James's hand smoothly made its way up and down my back, firm and lovely and comforting, and he said, "It's not easy. No one ever said it would be. But you've got to do it, you know? You have to take in people who make you feel good and let go of the ones that make you feel bad. It's part of life."

"Not a part of life I'm good at. You can attest to my extreme slowness in trusting," I said wryly.

James didn't snicker, although I could tell he wanted to. "You were right to do that," he said. "You can't go flinging yourself around and hoping for the best. I found that out the hard way. You have to protect yourself. It's just a very fine line of how much to do so."

"Everything about…you and me, and us, is so new to me," I said. "I've never…been here before. I mean, technically, I have, and so have you, but it's still…different. Like, you're permanent in a way no one else was. If we were ever to break up, I know we'd still be good friends."

James blanched. "You're talking about breaking up on my _birthday_?"

"No!" I swatted him on the back of the head. "Of course not. I'm speaking hypothetically."

"Well, don't," he said. "The very idea of splitting up makes me want to break out in hives."

I chuckled, thinking back to the lists I'd written in this diary, when I'd contemplated telling him I was dying to get him to the common room. I was quite grateful that I had decided not to do that, if this was how he responded to me making an off-hand remark about breaking up.

"I don't know if I'd even be able to break up with you," I said. "It would feel so _wrong. _I mean, it really feels like we're on to something here, and it's building and building…like we're crashing into these unknown places I never knew I'd be able to explore. It's…kind of terrifying, honestly."

"I know what you mean," he responded. "I…don't always feel like this when I'm with someone. It's like flying without a broomstick – it's magical and liberating, but it could all go away, and you could crash down on your arse, completely incapacitated. And yet, you do it all anyway. It's insane."

"That's almost exactly how I felt the night I kissed you," I said shyly. "Like…I was going to crash down on my arse."

James laughed out loud, short and mirthful, and held me closer to him, warm and affectionate.

"Do you remember when you told me Petunia was getting married, and you were upset, and we were sitting together in the middle of patrol discussing the whole thing?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "Vividly."

Ignoring the sarcasm, he went on, "And do you remember when you said you thought she wasn't ready to take that step, and I told you maybe she was scared to death, but willing to take the big plunge with her husband at her side?"

"Yes," I said, softening a little.

"Well…I feel the same way," he said bravely. "You think you're the only one scared of how much this means to you, but you're not. I feel it too. I'm scared to death; but I want to do this. I want to…figure out where this could go. Even if it is a big plunge, I'm willing to take it if you'll do it with me."

At this moment, I could feel the bated breath, how we were waiting for the other person to make a move, to dictate the conclusion of this conversation. And I think it's a good time to mention that this was the first time we ever referenced our first kiss(es) the night of James's birthday.

I mean, I thought about it plenty – what it felt like, what it meant, what it could do for us in the future – but we had never really talked about it. That night, I didn't write about it, but I was nervous that reaching that milestone would make it okay for James to start kissing me casually, saying hello and then planting a big wet one on me just because.

However, tonight, as the knowledge of what we did and what we were came out in the open between us, I didn't feel so nervous anymore. I didn't feel like there was formality or weirdness between us. All I felt was the edge of a cliff I couldn't name, the wind swirling around me and waiting for me to either walk away or make the jump, despite the ambiguous nature of the bottom.

And at his words, at his earnestness, at his desire to brave out this strange new world with me, I decided that I did want to jump after all.

So I did. I jumped, both arms up and open, my face not looking at what was coming but up at the sky, and I pulled my boyfriend into me and I kissed him, hard and heavy and heady and perfect. We surrendered, holding each other close enough to feel the other's loud, frantic heartbeat against our own chests, and kissing.

Somewhere in my brain, I registered that the fast song had started up again, that people around us were jumping and whooping and even watching us kiss, utterly excited by the spectacle (never seen before in public) but it didn't really bother me. All that mattered to me was the fact that James made me happy – happier than anyone ever did – and for once, I wasn't tripping or sputtering or making a fool of myself. I was in the right place at the right time and everything fit into place. You'd be surprised by how seldom I feel that way.

After what felt like a couple of minutes, then, I gently broke the kiss and said, "C'mon. Let's do something a little more interesting than stand here playing tonsil hockey."

Snorting at my extremely tactful humor, he said, "Sure."

And so we did. We danced for what felt like years, until my feet were hurting and I was sweating and my body was screaming at me to please sit down now. I danced with James, I danced with Sirius, I danced with Remus, I danced with Peter, and I danced with Alice and Frank (who were unwilling to leave each other's side). We all had drinks and we all ate snacks and we all had an absolutely brilliant time, reveling in the company of our friends and the rhythm of the admirably danceable music Sirius had picked out. I wouldn't have exchanged it for the world.

Coming upstairs now, every part of me aching but buzzing with pure bliss, and lying here on my bed, thinking about it, I am too happy. There are people here who love and adore me, who want to see me smile, and James was right. I have to let Livvy go, because her misery shouldn't neutralize all of my joy. If she wants me in her life, she has to come to me, and vice versa. Wallowing isn't worth my energy. There is too much else to do, too many other people to invest my emotions in.

It's time to go to bed now, because I'm exhausted and there is not much else to say, but I will write again soon, I'm sure. The Easter holidays are coming up soon and I will get a chance to go home. Maybe James can come over and meet my parents. Maybe Alice can come over and we can lie around in my room and talk about nothing. Maybe I'll actually catch up on my sleep while I'm there.

I dunno. The only way to know is to leave this off, say good-night, and wake up tomorrow morning.

Until later, then.

--

A/N: Oh, by the way…

I've outlined the ending of this story (finally) and I'm decided on 71 chapters. It will take us to June 21st – Petunia's wedding – and I will go no farther. The way my outline is looking, I like the way that will end us off. I hope to finish this whole project off by February/March.

Weird as it is, we're heading for the home-stretch here. Things are going to wrap up pretty quickly once the drama unfolds in two chapters. I'm quite excited – I've never been here before.

And hey, thanks for a thousand reviews, guys – very epic awesome of you! Leave another one on your way out of the browser and let's see about getting another chapter up soon, hopefully.


	57. I am Briefly Reprieved

A/N: Yes, this chapter is quite obviously filler. But the last chapter was extremely long and not-filler, slightly alleviating my guilt, and you do need to know the stuff brought up here, because without it, I'd be omitting an important background setting for the drama you're scheduled to get next chapter. So…yeah. There's your explanation for the less-than-fantabulous update.

Hope you like it anyway, though.

--

April 17

**5:30 AM**  
_Status_: Sleepy

Okay, so…funny story. Really, really funny. Hilarious, in fact. Ready for this?

Right then.

So for this story to make sense, it is important to note (for once) the time and the status above for this entry. It's at five-thirty in the morning when I'm still very sleepy.

A reasonable question to ask at this point is, why would I be writing a diary entry at five-thirty AM when I have the consciousness of a near-comatose mute? Why would I waste my precious sleeping time with writing when I could be, well, sleeping?

Now here's where the "funny" part of the story comes in.

See, I woke up with a jolt twenty minutes ago, coming off a horrible dream somehow involving a pair of giant scissors, cherry blossoms, and molding pita bread, and I realized with a stroke of lightning that I hadn't written in my diary for _ages_.

I felt wrong and horrible, you know, having neglected this little book that has gotten me through all the up's and down's of this madcap year, so I went straight to my desk to pick it up and write…when I realized it was still five in the morning, I was still exhausted, and my last entry was only sixteen days ago.

Only sixteen days. I swear, to my scrambled-egg-omelette of a brain, that has felt like eternity and a half.

Upon making this discovery, then, I mentally slapped my disgruntled self for my idiocy and went back to bed. I cuddled up in my covers, willing myself to get some more rest – I'm on Easter vacation, so I should take advantage of these precious sleep-in days – but after twenty minutes of lying around wide-awake, I knew it was no use.

So, I ambled out of bed, yawning, and I began to write this entry. Right here, right now, as the sun rises outside my window.

Told you it would be a funny story.

But, as I'm here and have nothing better to do, I might as well fill in the sixteen-day gap that's been left gaping since I last wrote.

Currently, I'm on my Easter holidays, as I mentioned before. I've been home for almost a week thus far and I'm absolutely loving it. I go back in another week, I know, but the rest feels nicer than I can say. I'm starting to feel like _me _again – sleeping late, waking later, and padding about in slippers all day.

The last few days at Hogwarts before break were miserable. They were long and tedious and rounded off with a mountain of holiday homework to prepare us for the final stretch of NEWT preparation when we returned. I couldn't get out of there fast enough – the only things holding me back from just running far, far away were Alice and James.

Alice has been patient and lovely with me, despite her own disgust with using her brain, and James has made the long patrolling nights a pleasure. I mean, I know we're dating, but he's not one of those irritating boyfriends who always wants to hold hands, or kiss me, or act all mushy. We're still friends first and foremost and we've been content with just walking and talking, as we've always done, with maybe a little hand-holding sprinkled in when we feel particularly affectionate.

About a week ago, I asked Alice and James both to join me during the break, but Alice declared she wanted absolutely no human contact on her precious two weeks off (not even with me) and James's parents had already made plans to go backpacking in the German mountains. He offered to take me along, but I gave him a look and he subsided.

I mean, come on. Me, in hiking shoes, meandering in mountains? Not only do I have an infamously dismal sense of direction – I'd never be able to find my way around without direct, obvious assistance – but my stamina is meager/non-existent and my coordination is bad enough on a perfectly stable, flat surface. I'd probably fall and kill myself if I was outside navigating on rocks for hours; I pointed out that James would likely not want that on his conscience. He readily agreed with me.

One long train ride later two days ago, then, I bid my friends good-bye and went to meet my family. Predictably, my mother was hysterical with joy to see me. She had always taken my being a boarding school a little too hard. She practically squeezed the breath out of me before she allowed my father a chance to hug me and my sister a chance to coolly ask me how I was. Then Mum drove us all home, talking a million miles a minute as she did – she was just about bursting with excitement.

"Oh, Lils, I'm so glad you're home," she gushed. "There's just been so much going on! Tuney and Vernon's wedding is coming up so fast and we've been figuring out the guest list and menu and clothes; I've just started working at the florist's in downtown, you know, to get some extra money for the bride-to-be; we're not entirely sure how we want the cake to be, or what we should do about Petunia's dress, so I was really looking forward to having you here and helping out with all that…"

And she prattled on, barely taking any breaths at all in which the rest of us could politely interject, so thrilled was she to _finally _have another girl in the house that would be able to take an interest in these things.

We got home and I finally managed to free myself from Mum's tirade by claiming tiredness and retreating to my room. I unpacked my things and set them around my familiar room, looking around at it and breathing it in. It's a room that clearly belongs to a young girl – I redecorated it the summer I was thirteen, because I felt much too old to come back to a ten-year-old's room – and I can remember walking on this carpet, brushing my hair in front of the mirror and brushing my teeth in my half of the Jack-and-Jill bathroom I shared with Petunia. Things I don't even remember knowing keep coming back to me and it's a good thing.

I just…I feel more like _me _again. Eating/sleeping a lot, spending much of my time in pajamas. That's a big part of who I am when I'm not stressed to finish the next assignment – I like my creature comforts. I finished my holiday homework the first couple of days and after that, I refused to touch any writing utensil unless my life depended on it. Which, usually, it didn't. That was a nice little rebellion for my tired, tired brain.

But, I must say – if it sounds like I've done nothing but slack off and lie around in bed, then I'm sorry for the discrepancy. It has _not _been only slacking off and lying around in bed. I've actually been incredibly busy for several hours at a time, running from shop to shop with my mother, attempting to mediate intense discussions between my mother and sister, and trying to distinguish between cream and taupe (I'm sorry, but I just don't see it).

Why?

Because now that I'm here for two weeks, my mother thinks it is the perfect time to start making every imaginable decision about Petunia's upcoming wedding. With me.

Now, I've never planned a wedding before in my life; and, upon seeing it before my own eyes, I've decided I'm never going to do it for as long as I live. There's simply too much to do, too much to pick out and coordinate. Themes, colors, guests, flowers, dresses, the menu, hired help, the perfect spot…it's ridiculous. Everything has to be done from scratch and everyone must agree on everything.

I fully understand why Dad has been relatively hands-off with the whole affair. Even one afternoon shopping with Mum for flowers is enough to put me off of weddings for the rest of my life.

She's insane, she is. She has about a thousand ideas, but Petunia turns her nose up, states a color or a texture or a theme, and then poor Mum runs out in a flurry to find it. I was called upon yesterday to go dress-shopping – oh Merlin – and I swear, I'm never doing it again. Never, ever again. It's ridiculous.

See, I like shopping as much as the next person. Truly, I do. I really have no choice, with Alice as my best friend. But shopping with Mum and Petunia is a fate worse than hell, even for a happy shopper, and that's a fact.

I literally sat in that dress shop for three hours – two o'clock to five – watching Petunia model wedding dress after wedding dress, peevishly whining about most of them, putting on everything at least two or three times before even starting the narrowing process. We were supposed to try and look for bridesmaid's dresses as well, but Petunia took so long fussing over her wedding dress that we didn't have any time. Mum wanted to go to the baker's afterward to put in the order for the cake and make sure it was done by the right date to avoid disaster.

That was another fun extension to the overall trip. It took an hour and a half to pick designs, tell the baker what went where, pay him and get out. By this point, my eyes were twitching and my left leg was dead asleep and it still took all my sweetest, most charming persuasion power to convince my mother to take me home.

I know that for several months now, the idea of Petunia's wedding has made me very nervous. I wasn't sure how that would change my family dynamics; I wasn't sure if she was ready for it; I wasn't sure if I wanted her to go; I wasn't sure about anything. And, in my usual worry-wart way, I clung tight when I should've just let it go.

James ended up being quite right when he told me that night so long ago to give this time: now that I've had the chance to slowly adjust to the idea of Petunia being a fiancé and in its own leisurely way, it's become an easier truth to swallow. I'm somewhat okay with it. I've been able to help out with all this planning without great incidence. That has to be a good thing.

I think, actually, I'm quite happy for Petunia. Maybe I don't adore Vernon – I never really have and I doubt I ever will – but if Tuney wants him, she should have him. She should get her chance to do what is right by her. Happiness is subjective, after all – what makes me happy will likely not produce the same effect in her, and vice versa.

I hope they work out well together. I hope Vernon will love her properly, when my parents give her away on June 21st. Even when I was against the marriage, my only motivating force was that I didn't think Petunia could be happy with him. But apparently, she can – so that's enough for me.

Anyway, I think I'm going to run. Mum's always up around now – six thirty – and I think I smell chocolate chip pancakes. I'd better get them before Dad does. I swear, that man could eat fifty pancakes as an afternoon snack – his stomach is a bottomless pit.

Until later, then!

--

A/N: Short, breezy, fun. Yep, that's filler – but like I said, it's necessary. I had to set up the scene for you before I plunged you into next chapter's (thunderclap) BIG DRAMA.

To be honest, I'm excited for the (thunderclap) BIG DRAMA. I really am. Surprisingly, I've never tried anything like it before. Plus, it raises all kinds of cool, "big" questions that I'm eager to explore. And it introduces an aspect of life I've never really addressed before. And it brings Livvy back into the story, but with yet another complication to add to the list - which, I mean, is always exciting. I know most of you aren't crazy about her, but maybe you'll feel slightly differently after next chapter.

Yeah, yeah, I know, there's a ton of drama in this story right now…but I got heat for giving you too little plot in the beginning, so now you just have to deal with it, hehe.

Leave me a review in anticipation for the (thunderclap) BIG DRAMA, then!!


	58. My World Completely Combusts

A/N: Here we go. Here it is. Finally. The (thunderclap) BIG DRAMA I've been promising you for ages now. Hope I haven't built it up to a point where you are unfazed by the whole thing – because that would totally suck. Just try to be astonished for my sake. I'm so excited. It totally changes everything. Like _everything_.

It's not incredibly long, but it doesn't need to be. It's merely an introduction. Every facet of the latest development will not be covered in this one chapter. It will resonate through pretty much the rest of the story. Direct aftermath, however, will be brought up next chapter.

Thanks to _Niki _for making sure this was not too overwrought for you. You're an epic winner, darling.

Off you go, then!

--

April 24

**5:30 PM**  
_Status_: Moody

The sky is still quite light outside, only mere touches of fiery orange staining the serene, forever blue above us, and I suspect the sun will start to set very quickly from this point on. I'm already in my robes, the snacks from the cart have already been eaten, and the train is quiet, the animated buzz of the morning dulled by the long ride. Alice is currently sitting beside me on the train. Her head is on my shoulder, her snores light in my ear, and I feel like the only one alive here, writing and reveling in the quietness, listening to the low, steady rumble of the train making its way on the track.

These are my favorite times to open my notebook and pour my thoughts on paper – moody and thoughtful after a good long conversation with my best friends, the atmosphere outside coolly bizarre in that unappreciated sort of way.

It makes my insulated little world appear infinitesimal, insignificant, one tiny bubble in an ocean of fizz. It makes me feel like there are so many things out there far bigger than me and my meager intelligence will never be enough to properly wrap itself around them.

It's humbling, in a way. When you're caught up in the rush and whirl of school, a trivial ant-farm of miniscule ants that aren't quite ready for reality yet, it's easy to forget how vast the outside world really is. And how tiny you are in comparison.

Yesterday, in the early evening, there was an enormous bridge collapse somewhere in England. I forget the name of the town, but I know it's familiar, in way, like I've heard of it before and it's close by, so well integrated into conversation that it's difficult to pin-point on command. Death Eaters – the vile creatures who worship an evil man – were the masterminds behind it, making the whole thing fall down like a stack of child's dominos, and killing a currently indefinite number of people. It was a busy bridge and there were cars on it when it was sunk.

I don't really get the _Prophet _anymore – there's nothing much in there worth reading – but Alice got it and she was sobered when she told me about it. Apparently, the Ministry is not as composed as it wants us to think it is. This bridge collapse is the biggest recent tragedy, but according to the _Prophet_, smaller ones have occurred that are just as horrifying, but the press didn't write about it because they didn't want to worry anyone.

But now, people _are _worried. They think there's a war going on. Those whispers in the paper from earlier this year have turned into murmurs, calls, and then demands. The bridge collapse has really scared people. Adults speak in confidential whispers, we almost-adults wonder how much to worry.

Hogwarts students aren't always in-tune with current events, I know; but as I boarded the train this morning, many were discussing it with anxiety in their faces. They knew people who lived near and used the bridge and were still waiting to hear from those families, hoping everything was okay and nothing would change too drastically. They were paying attention. Alice was among these people. She has an uncle, aunt, and four cousins who live in that area. They haven't been in touch with her parents yet.

The worry is prevalent, and I feel it too, for their sakes, but there's another feeling that I can't quite put my finger on. It's like an animal instinct, like a sixth sense, where your stomach knots and your throat is suddenly dry, and you just _know_ inexplicably that something is going to go desperately, drastically wrong. I'm not sure what it is, but I sure hope I'm wrong.

What is this world coming to? Wars and madness and lies and secrets. And why is it only dawning on me now, today, this one day out of all the ones in the year?

I've gone through eighteen years worth of mornings, afternoons, and evenings; but somehow, it's only this one evening that has me tense and waiting, unsure of what's coming my way, and threatening to cast a shadow on my safe little mini-universe.

The simple fact of the matter is that I'm scared. I hope we get to school soon. I think dinner (lots of it) and some sleep is the best therapy for the time being.

Until later, then.

**8:30 PM**  
_Status_: Horrified

That's it, that's final. My world is upside down. It's destroyed. Do I even have one? I'm not sure. I don't know. I'm shaking too hard. Is this even legible? Will I be able to read this tomorrow? Will I want to?

Merlin, I don't know. I just don't know. Everything's different now. Whatever I was earlier today, yesterday, the day before, the years before, I'm not like that anymore. Like I said, my world is upside down. It's destroyed. Do I even have one?

It was dropped on us like a bomb when we came into the school. I was in a relatively good mood, a normal mood, and that feels kind of sick, in a way, knowing as I do now what was to come next.

I said hello to my friends and acquaintances, laughing and greeting everyone, asking after holidays and giving hugs. All normal. And then I went into Great Hall, where I was all of a sudden astonished. Kind of bewildered.

The Hall, normally a cheerful place with the bright walls and invitingly golden plates adding to the cheery atmosphere, was draped in black. Somber faces greeted us from the High Table. Professor Dumbledore looked particularly grave, surveying us on our way in, looking around and exchanging our confusion with our companions. I shared mine with Alice, but she was as clueless as me. No one really seemed to know what was going on.

We settled into our tables, unsure and uncertain, and I felt that chill again, that primal fear run through my body like electricity, lighting up my veins and making me numb. I tried to make myself stop that, but I couldn't. I gripped the table instead, the anticipation killing me.

Clearly, something was going on. Something was off – wrong. And I had to know what it was.

Professor Dumbledore waited several long, tense minutes sitting at the High Table, making the air even tenser, thicker, with his silence. Then, finally, he stood up and began to address us.

"Good evening, Hogwarts," he said in his soft, pleasant voice. "I trust you all had happy holidays – a welcome break."

Murmurs broke out in the crowd of students at this, but the moment Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak again, all was silent. I never spoke.

"Unfortunately, however, we have some news of a tragic nature to inform you of this evening," he said. "You may have noticed the draperies around the Hall tonight. They're black. This is because Hogwarts is in mourning at the moment – because last night, a student was taken from among our midst."

Pin-drop silence followed this statement, but tension was practically tangible. Death was the worst news we could receive and I could already feel my heart breaking. This was a student that had died – someone I knew, who walked this castle with me, who learned magic and struggled with homework and feared things and needed things, who loved and was loved. Did I know them? Who hadn't I seen when I made my hello rounds?

Dumbledore took another breath, breaking my reverie.

"In last night's bridge collapse, Russell Burgess was murdered," he told us grimly.

Honestly, when he said that, my heart stopped for a second. I swear it did. I could feel my eyes widen, my hand instinctively grip the table harder, but I was numb. I was shocked. I couldn't move.

Russell. Russell that played on the Quidditch team. Russell that loved Livvy with all he had.

How could that Russell, our Russell, be…gone?

I bit my lip so hard it could have bled. Alice's hand squeezed my wrist hard, hard enough to stop my circulation. She, like me, instantly knew the weight of these words. The school burst into more murmurs, shocked faces were abundant in the Gryffindor table, but Alice and I were only looking for one face.

We found it quickly, just ten seats down from us and across.

Livvy.

The most complex wave of emotion hit me just then, hit me so hard it could've slapped me across the face and taken the skin of my cheek off. Livvy's eyes looked ready to fall out of her face, her body was visibly shaking even from where I sat. It was common knowledge that she was his girlfriend and empathetic people tried to call her, tried to say her name or reach out to her, but I don't think she heard them. I don't think she could even breathe for the initial shock.

I was halfway up out of my bench to go to her when, without warning, Livvy burrowed her face into her hands, an animal shriek left her mouth, and she half-ran, half-stumbled out of the Great Hall, never looking back.

And at that moment, it didn't matter that we weren't friends, that we'd been in that strange, lonely Cold War for so many weeks, that I still hadn't moved on from our spat. It didn't matter that we'd hurt each other or that I thought she hated me.

All that mattered was that Livvy had run out of the Great Hall and I, without thinking, got up and ran after her, Alice following right beside me.

We two ran up the main staircase, wondering where she was or where she could go. Alice then started running in the direction of the Gryffindor common room and I wordlessly followed, our hair blowing behind us as we sprinted, faster than we ever had, to find Livvy.

Then, on the seventh floor landing, just where the staircase had dropped her off, we spotted her – she was on the ground, her brown hair everywhere, and she was shaking so hard she looked like she was on a bucking horse. As if in a dream, Alice and I ran to her on autopilot and collapsed beside her.

"Livvy? Livvy?" I tried to hold up her shoulders, shake her, wake her, look her in the eye for the first time in weeks, but she was too flimsy, quivering too violently. "Livvy, are you in there?"

Alice, always unsure of what to say when someone was upset, silently went behind Livvy and held up her shoulders firmly, so that her head was up and her face was on me, and I finally saw her, all of her. The thin face, the thin mouth, the small nose, the deeply brown eyes. She was completely red and my heart broke for her again and again.

"No…no…" she whimpered, staring at me with giant phantom's eyes. "Russ…"

"C'mon, Livs, you've had a horrible shock and I think you need to lie down," I said, squeezing her hand. "Alice, help me get her up. Let's take her to my dorm. It's closer."

"_No_," Livvy hollered at me, so emphatically and vehemently that I was startled. "I'm _not _lying down. I need to be miserable. I've…made so many mistakes…"

She was shaking even harder now and I was quite worried about the state of even her physical well-being – she was pale and sickly, all the color gone from her cheeks, the only vividness in her eyes, which were rimmed with deep, dramatic red.

"Livvy, you're out of your mind, come with me," I pleaded with her.

"I c-c-can't," she stuttered, not looking at me. "I'm an idiot. It wasn't fair. I…don't know…"

"Livvy, I know it wasn't fair," I told her, biting my lip and giving her hands another squeeze. "But you're not well right now…you need to come with me. We can talk in my room."

"_No_!" Livvy exploded at me again. "I _can't_!"

"You can," I tried. "Livvy, don't do this…please come with me…"

"No," Livvy whimpered, the tears coming hard and fast, shaking her head resolutely. "I have to be here…I deserve to be m-miserable…"

"You don't," I told her firmly.

"I do!" Livvy sobbed fiercely. "_I _should've been on that bridge yesterday! _I _should've died. I wouldn't have been missed. Russ needs to be here, not me. He's an infinitely better h-human being, he deserved better than I e-ever g-g-gave him…I never even told him how much I still l-loved him…I chose a stupid fucking game over him and he never knew I was sorry!"

Livvy's screams pierced, but I forced myself to swallow, trying to figure out a new way to please get Livvy into my room, please not deal with this right now, it was far too much…but the avalanche kept coming, the words pouring out of her mouth like a river of relentless poison, and I could see tears pricking in Alice's eyes, feel them pricking in my own as well.

"And then you two," she continued, her thin arms covered with goosebumps. "I was losing control, I was upset, and then I lashed out at you and I didn't know what to say and you hate me and you should…and I don't know what to do, I'm completely alone, and I'm so s-s-scared. It should've been _me_!"

At this point, the shaking got so bad that I knew something was coming. Instinctively, I jumped out of the way and suddenly, Livvy vomited, right there, on the floor, tears still spilling down like hot, wet missiles. Alice held her hair back and I ran my hand up and down her back, wondering how on earth I could possibly soothe her when she was like this. She was ill in every way and I couldn't take her grief. I didn't know how to come close to it, approach it, tackle it. I've never been in this place before.

Once Livvy had purged and Alice had quietly vanished it away with her wand, she collapsed on the ground, her face on the floor as it was when we found her, and she cried so hard we couldn't hear a sound. Her sobs were more like screams, feral and primitive and raw and lacerating, and she kept banging her fist against the floor, something muffled in those cries.

"It's not fair." That's what she kept saying. "It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fair."

I took my hand off her back and tried not to fall apart myself, watching her bawl her eyes out. I've seen Livvy cry before, but not like that. Never like that. I couldn't even fathom how her body was holding all of that emotion in – she looked so frail. How could she still be expected to breathe and function when she lived with that kind of weight in her?

I tried to touch Livvy's cheek, tried to pick her up and hug her somehow, but she was mad with guilt and pain and goodness-knows-what-else. She fought with resistance simultaneously futile, violent and heartbreaking, attempting to wrestle me off of her, but for once, I didn't let her push me away. I firmly pulled her into me, holding her face in my shoulder; and after another moment or two of trying to hit me, she gave in and clutched me tightly, as though I was the only thing keeping her alive. Her sobs were ragged, the water from her tears seeping into my robes, and I found myself once again frightened by the sheer intensity of her feelings.

I can't even begin to describe how helpless I felt, so weak to Livvy's flurry, so completely useless when she needed me most. Nothing I could say would make it any easier, regardless of my best intentions, and I didn't know what to do. I just didn't.

So I did the next best thing – I used what little of my common sense I had left and decided to take Livvy to my dormitory.

Shakily getting to my feet (which were dangerously close to collapse), I mutely bid Alice to help me. Together, the two of us lifted Livvy up off the floor and got her arms around our necks. She seemed to have lost all desire for independent movement, hanging on us like a dead weight, her eyes squeezed shut, and we took her to my room, where we gently lay her down on my bed.

At once, she curled up in fetal position, her previously anguished cries now wracked, tired little whimpers, and I knew we weren't getting any more out of her tonight. She needed to rest, to sleep some of this off, and she needed someone to be with her. None of our silly drama mattered anymore. This tragedy was far bigger than all three of us and our petty dilemmas.

"Can you handle this?" Alice asked me softly, gesturing to Livvy's slightly quivering form on my bedcover.

"I think so," I responded in a voice that didn't sound like mine. "Go back to dinner. I'll stay up here with her."

"If you need me…let me know," she said after a pause.

"Okay," I said.

Alice nodded and silently glided out of my room, and I knew she would be willing to run back up if I asked her to, but I probably wouldn't. Alice is a wonderful person and a wonderful friend, which I will never dispute, but she knows as well as I that she's not good with pain. She doesn't know how to handle it. She is a fish out of water in a situation like this and I'm Livvy's best bet – even if I'm similarly clueless.

So, because I had lost my appetite and I was already feeling drained, I got into bed and I'm here, writing, my heart thumping away in my chest, as unappeased as the rest of me. My bed is larger than most, capable of holding two relatively small people at once, so Livvy is beside me at the moment. I managed to coax her under the covers and her weight is warm at my side. There's no point in moving her now – her body has seemingly decided to protect itself by falling into a deep sleep until morning – so I'm going to let her sleep with me tonight. I also figure she could use the company, maybe a friendly face when she wakes up.

There's no point in sugarcoating this: I'm scared out of my mind. I feel both far too young and far too old, coming out of this evening – old, because I never anticipated having to deal with this so soon, and young, because I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing.

Everything – including my life as I knew it – changed tonight.

No longer is my life solely about getting to the next weekend, finishing up my homework, talking to Alice and patrolling with James. There's more out there, waiting to test me the moment I'm out of the padded playpen Hogwarts is. There are more things to worry about. How could I have forgotten that this year?

Anyway, I'm too exhausted at present to write anymore. There's nothing else to say. The shock value – enormous as it is – has robbed me of my ability to reason, to cope. I'll have to go into it later, when my situation is less akin to having the carpet snatched out from beneath my feet. Right now, it…well, it hurts too much.

Until later, then. I think. I hope?

--

A/N: Whew. Craziness. I was quite nervous about getting this one out there – it's a pretty fine line between profound grief and melodrama – but there you go. I know this story has been pretty fun and light-hearted thus far, but I mean, it can't last. There was a war, you know, and wars never have happy endings. And thus, our (thunderclap) BIG DRAMA made its appearance.

Please remember to review on your way out of the browser.


	59. I Wonder Where to go Next

A/N: My apologies for leaving you guys hanging after the last chapter. I have final exams next week, so this week has been pretty crazy – I've had little time to myself with all the last minute tests and projects and what free time I do get is always tainted with exhaustion from everything else. So…yeah. Sorry.

But well, we are now at a Very Complicated Point in this story. I know it seems like Alice and Lily have suddenly just become friends with Livvy again, but it's more difficult than that. You can't forget how someone has made you feel, particularly when those feelings are bad. And that dilemma – wanting to go back to normal but not being able to put away the past – will surface eventually with these three girls. But not now, because I don't want any other drama eclipsing this one at present. So you have to wait for it – but it's coming.

We are heading into wild, emotional waters here, people. Be understanding (particularly with Livvy, who won't be quite right for the rest of this story), anticipate a lot of emotion, and be patient with me. This chapter was tough to write and edit - it's come to the point now where I've lost emotional connections with it and I was just editing it mechanically for phrasing - so I hope and pray that it still works for you.

Cheers.

--

April 25

**3:30 PM**  
_Status_: Low

If there was ever a time to declare, "Today is the worst day of my life," then I would say this is it.

Today is the worst day of my life and there's absolutely no other way to put it.

This morning, I woke up with a jolt at five in the morning, breathing heavily and realizing I was drenched in sweat. It took me a moment, lying there in my bed, to remember what I was so upset about – and it socked me in the gut yet again to think about it.

Images from the previous night, sharp like photographs, were burned into my head – Dumbledore's face when he told us it was Russell, Livvy crying as she was, Alice looking helplessly at me and wondering what to do – and I found I was shaking again just thinking about them. Merlin, it was like coming back to that awful, awful evening all over again.

Taking a deep breath and using every ounce of self-discipline I possessed, I sat up in bed and noticed, with another jolt, that Livvy wasn't beside me and she should be. At once, I began to look around my quiet dormitory – and I found her a moment later, lying on the floor.

She looked dreadful, like a wet towel wrung out for water and still not dry. She was curled up in fetal position and seemed half-conscious, like she'd been drifting in and out of consciousness for hours. Her eyes were wet and so was the pillow she'd slept on, so I knew she'd cried. I felt bad that I had been too asleep to notice.

After a moment of watching her, she realized my eyes were on her and she met my gaze. There was a horrible deadness to the way she looked at me – she was blank, drained, and she didn't have any particular emotion in her expression. She was just…there and barely at that.

"Livvy?" I called her softly, coming out of bed and sitting beside her on the ground.

"Yes?" Her voice was whisper-quiet.

"I know it's a stupid question, but…are you all right?" I asked.

Livvy exhaled a tiny breath. "No," she said.

I bit my lip. "Okay," I said back.

Livvy curled in tighter. "I don't want to go to class," she said. "I don't want to move."

"I know, Livs, I know," I said as empathetically as I could for someone who had no idea what, exactly, she was going through. "But…maybe it would help to go to class. It would give you some normality, some order. You know?"

"I don't want to go," she repeated.

"It'll be good for you, Livvy, I swear," I said. "You can't prolong the inevitable. You have to come back to school and I know it's hard, but staying still is harder."

Livvy closed her eyes and a tear leaked out.

"I don't want to go," she said.

"C'mon, Livvy," I said, crouching on my knees and offering her my hand. "I want to take you to your dormitory. At the very least, let's get you dressed."

This seemed a reasonable-enough request. She processed it quietly, seeming to chew on every word with aching slowness before finally nodding and lifting herself up in a sitting position. From here, I stood up and pulled her to her feet. She was wobbly and unstable, but she stood.

Pleased by my small victory, I took her hand and led her to the girl's dormitory. She followed without complaint, without a word, and was agreeable enough as I picked her clothes out for her. I sent her to the bathroom to brush her teeth and change and she did, taking ten minutes and coming out, completely ready.

"You look great," I said, although this was a lie. She didn't look great – she looked like a mess in Hogwarts robes. But she didn't need to know that.

"Thanks," she said.

"But I still have to get dressed myself, so…do you want to come with me and wait in my dormitory, or do you want to go down for breakfast and find Alice?" I asked.

"I'll wait for you," she offered.

"Okay," I said simply.

And thus, we went back the way we came. I took Livvy's hand again, holding onto her like a mother holds onto a child prone to walking off, and we went to my dormitory. I left her sitting on my bed and got ready in record time, not wanting to leave Livvy waiting. I came right back, anxious to get some food into her, and I found her sitting quietly, brokenly, on my bed – her legs crossed, her eyes down.

Looking at her like that, I forced myself to swallow and lightly touched her arm. It made her jump. She'd really had no idea that I was in the room with her again.

"Let's eat breakfast," I said.

Livvy nodded robotically and the two of us went downstairs to the Great Hall. She was utterly and disturbingly quiet and I didn't know how to conduct myself around her. The Livvy who was my best friend was a morning person, bright and chirpy on our way to breakfast; the Livvy who was my ex-best friend was exactly the same, but not towards me; but this Livvy, the Livvy who's living with Russell's death, I have no experience with.

I don't even feel like she's Livvy – just an empty shell of her, worn-out and dry of her usual animation.

She's been like that all day – I managed to coax her into going to class, but she didn't go because she wanted to. She went because I all but pushed her to go with me. I kind of regret that – it's like taking advantage of someone who can't fend for themselves – but at the same time, what could I do? I had to get her back into something she knew. I had to remind her that there was life beyond her guilt.

I don't know how effective my effort is – she never really paid attention to anything anyone said and I had to nudge her to show her the period was over – but I still feel like I'm doing _some_thing. And that, in this kind of situation, is a bit of a blessing.

The dynamic is strange between us three now. Alice and I didn't say too much to each other, choosing to keep our company quiet, and Livvy hasn't spoken since the morning. She hasn't eaten much either. She pecked a little at lunch, a bite of this and a bite of that, but her plate was still full when we left for History of Magic. She made me feel like a right insensitive pig for all I ate – and all that I couldn't say to her.

I mean, really. This situation has to be unreal for all of us, but I feel like I've been absolutely silent for no reason besides not wanting to ruffle any feathers. Not only is the weight of the dead boyfriend upon us, but also Livvy's outburst at us all those weeks ago. Petty as it may sound, I haven't forgotten how she looked at me that night, how she ignored me afterward, and it all makes me colossally uncomfortable.

Think about it: if it weren't for these miserable circumstances, we wouldn't be together at all. That makes a difference, painful as it is.

Overall, I've come to the conclusion that my life has become far too complicated for my personal health and sanity. I'm done with my taste of adulthood. I want to go back to being the blissfully innocent, ignorant student again. I am not meant to be in these places. I really do believe I'm still too young.

I think Alice is calling for me. We have to do our homework, she says, but I know it's only because she doesn't want to bear Livvy's melancholy alone. Livvy scares her. What would my friends do to each other if I didn't keep them bound together?

**11:45 PM**  
_Status_: Only slightly consoled

I'm back in my dormitory now, writing under the light of a candle. I'd put on my lamp, but James is already asleep – I don't want to wake him, but I also need to write. So this is my compromise to both extremely-strong desires.

Honestly, I'm just happy I didn't have to remember the spell to configure one – Alice had given me some scented candles a few months ago and I just had to Summon them. This one smells like lavender. The lavender is keeping me hanging on as I attempt to write, with shaking fingers, what was going on earlier tonight.

Here I go.

Obviously, judging from the time, my latest experiences stem from my patrol with James. I was a little iffy about going tonight, since it would mean having to leave Livvy alone in her dormitory with Alice, but I had to go and that was that. Plus, I hadn't really had an opportunity to talk to James properly since we came back yesterday – I was pretty busy making sure Livvy didn't do something drastic – and I really wanted to see him.

Through the day, he looked down, sticking closer to his friends (particularly Sirius) than usual, but I knew there had to be more to it than that. His presence in Livvy and Russell's relationship was awkward (particularly with Livvy, with whom he had tried and failed to have a relationship a few years ago) and now, with Russell dead, I knew that whatever he was feeling had to be complicated.

Scared as I am – for him and myself and my friends – I have a feeling that sharing our combined fears will be necessary for our survival.

With something this big, you can't keep this inside. You can't hold it back. If you don't let it go, it'll destroy you; and somehow, I don't know if I could explain this to Alice just yet. I need James and instinctively, I know he needs me too.

So, when I met him for patrol and we hugged for several seconds longer than usual, I didn't bother to smile and admitted, "I don't think I want to patrol tonight."

"Neither do I," said James in a hollow voice. "Do you want to…I dunno, sit in the corridor or something?"

"We could go to our alcove," I suggested. I called it ours because it was the site of our first kiss and by his subsequent nod, I knew he understood the reference.

"Okay," he said.

The alcove was on the sixth floor, down in an almost forgotten back corner. The two of us liked it for its privacy and tonight, we settled in together on the floor, his arm holding me protectively around the waist, my head on his shoulder, and we remained utterly silent for several minutes.

I considered keeping it this way, communicating wordlessly and holding each other close; but after a while, I didn't want to anymore. I was tired of tip-toeing around things and not saying how I really felt.

So, after several long minutes elapsed, I softly whispered into his ear, "Are you okay?"

James sighed in a painful kind of way and instantly – almost inexplicably – I knew he wasn't. So I whispered again, "Please talk to me."

"I'm not okay," he said simply, avoiding my eye and choosing to look instead at his knees, as though concentrating on them hard enough would help. "I…I don't know."

"I've been a washcloth for my two friends and I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't do it for you too," I remarked wryly, making my pathetic attempt at humor.

He gave me a bit of a funny look, so I dropped the guise and said, "Okay, in all seriousness, I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't ask you to talk to me. So talk. I know perfectly well that you're not okay and telling me what's going on should help."

This made more sense. Of course. So James sighed again, his eyes murky behind his glasses, and I stroked his hand as I waited, hoping it was doing something good. He let his head rest against the wall behind him, his eyes closed, and his muscles relaxed under my touch, but not completely. I wanted to say something, urge him along, but some long-dormant voice of sensitivity I haven't heard from in a while silenced me.

And it was right, too; because a few seconds later, he began to speak, his words quiet and rushed and trembling significantly.

"I haven't been able to think properly, or be normal, since I heard about…the bridge," he said, purposely leaving out Russell's name. "I…couldn't even look at Olivia when I heard Dumbledore say his name. It's just…I feel so _guilty_…"

His voice caught here, but I held his hand tightly, firmly, as determinedly calm/supportive as I've ever been, and he continued.

"I should've talked to him before Easter," he said, his cheeks and nose becoming a worrying pink. "I…I should've told him that I didn't mean to break him and Olivia up, that it wasn't supposed to be personal. I should've been a better Captain – I should've thought about my players – I sh-should've done _something_. But I didn't and now, I mean, i-it's not like I can go tell him that I'm…I'm sorry…"

And here, he broke again and I didn't think any amount of stroking or holding would make him continue. He bit down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood probably; and then he did what I've never seen him do, what I doubt he's rarely ever done—

He cried.

Merlin, I can't even begin to explain how devastating that was, to him and to me. It was like my world had suddenly ruptured from the inside out, that yesterday was only the beginning of everything I knew coming apart at the seams. It sounds clichéd, I know, I know, but…I don't even know how to describe the vast helplessness and grief that overtook me, seeing this big tough guy that's always been in control sit in our alcove and cry.

It was not a tantrum, nothing like what Livvy put me through yesterday; but, I mean, the very sight of tears was enough to send me into a tailspin. He's always been _James Potter_, the one who knew what was going on and didn't cry when everyone else did. He's always been the one I look enviously at, for being able to feel/convey the right thing at the right time.

He's never, never, _never_ been the one to fall apart and have me put him back together.

But there you go, that's how it was in our alcove tonight. He spent a couple of minutes letting those tears go, letting them fall hot and fast down his pink face. I tried to wipe them away, banish them for being here when I least needed them, and he startled me by resting _his _head on _my _shoulder, the moistness of his eyes now transferring onto my robes instead of the other way around.

For as long as I can remember, needing has been a daunting thing for me, because people can let you down. But my word, I never knew how daunting being needed could be in comparison.

I felt small. I felt useless, sitting there with someone so tough and trying to comfort him. I felt like I couldn't be enough to stem his grief, like I couldn't be enough for Livvy – and while my feelings for Livvy are complicated, my feelings for James have simplified and I know they are positive, intense, real.

I wanted to be ten times bigger than I really was to give him back a little of what he does for me everyday – and I couldn't.

That, more than anything, set me off. I mean, it just hit me right then, that there was this big rupture in the life I knew, and now the people closest to me needed me to stand straight, hold them up and keep them there. But I couldn't do that, because I was scared and confused myself – like a little girl briefly parted from her mother, standing in a large group of busy people who don't know or care, and the panic is setting in, the hopelessness. You don't know what to do, but then there's this other line of kids who think you do – and while you're lost yourself, you don't want to let them down. I've taken great lengths not to let people down.

And so, very much like a little girl, I burst into tears as well, and I hugged that boy like I'd hug a life buoy. Immediately, he pulled me onto his lap and we both cried, his hand lost in my hair and my arms around his neck, limbs interlocking and tears blending like cake mix.

Instinctually, we just _knew_ how stressed out the other was, how belittled by this experience, and there was nothing _to _say. We were done saying things. There weren't any words necessary. We just…needed a really good cry. A purging, a catharsis. Something. Anything.

And somewhere in the middle of this mess – when my nose was full of James's robes and his face was in my hair – I felt him kiss the back of my neck and say honestly, "I'm scared."

I swallowed thickly and replied, "Me too."

"This war…Merlin, I never thought _I'd_ be a part of it," he admitted, coming out of my hair and brushing away the strands stuck to my wet cheeks, his wet, shiny eyes staring seriously into mine. "I've seen it in the papers and all – everyone has – but…it's personal now. It's real. It's come and torn lives apart – _our _lives apart. And…that's scary."

"Exactly," I said, struggling to breath without that annoying hitch that you get when you've just cried. "I just…I don't know how to react. I mean, Livvy's a mess and she needs me and I don't know what to tell her. I don't know how to make her feel better. I'm in so far over my head and…I don't know how to be there for her."

"A few days ago, all I could think about in the German mountains was how much I wanted to be with you," he said. "And now…"

"I feel like we've come out of a golden age of innocence or something," I finished for him.

"We have," he confirmed, a crease between his eyebrows, his irises so fiercely hazel. "We live in desperate times now, Lils. We are part of a war. There's no more room to be innocent."

I cuddled my cheek into his chest. "I'm not ready for this," I said in my five-year-old girl's voice.

He shook his head and ran his hand soothingly down my back. "None of us are."

I looked up at him and saw the tension in his face, the hard set of his mouth and jaw. In response, the muscles behind my face softened, but my mouth set like his.

"So what do we do?" I asked.

"Figure out how to be ready, I guess," he said, his gaze at the ceiling. "For Russ and all the other people that we've already lost."

I exhaled shakily, absorbing this remark and mulling it over, and by chance I happened to look at my watch. It said we still had twenty minutes of patrol left, but I figured it didn't matter much. I mean, nothing ever really happened during patrol anyway, except the one time we caught the couple in the cupboard. We could go upstairs and no one would notice. Besides, the kitchens are downstairs and there are prefects covering it already.

So, after going over this in my head for a minute or two, I said, "So…do you want to go back to our rooms now?"

"Yeah, we can do that," James responded, quiet, subdued. "C'mon, let's go."

I got up off his lap and extended my hand to help him up. He accepted it and with a bit of sincere effort, I managed to get him sufficiently off the floor. Smirking slightly, he straightened up once on his feet and opened his arm up, offering me the space beside it, beside him. Gratefully, I settled into it and we walked to our dormitories together in silence.

When we got to my portrait, though, and James bid me good-night, I found that I didn't want him to go yet. I wanted him with me longer. So, because it had been a weird night and a weird day and I felt fragile, I grabbed onto his wrist as he was about to walk away and stopped him.

"What's wrong?" he asked me.

"I…don't want to be alone," I confessed. "Can you…I dunno, sleep over in my dormitory tonight?"

It took him a second or two to fully take in the weight of this request. I mean, it felt spontaneous and right in the moment I asked, but it must've felt completely different to him hearing it, hearing me say I wanted him to spend the night in my room.

But, mercifully, it didn't sound weird enough for him to decline. Instead, something relaxed in his face and he nodded in such a way that didn't make me suspect he was humoring me.

"Okay," he said. "Let me get my blanket and pillow and I'll be right over."

"Thanks," I said.

James smiled at me. "Hey, no problem."

I smiled too and retreated into my dormitory, leaving the portrait hole open so he could just climb in. I decided that my bed was a little too small to fit both of us comfortably – James is a lot bulkier than Livvy, who fit easily beside me – so I put out some blankets on the floor, along with my pillow. I was settling into my arrangement when James walked in, holding his own blanket and pillow, and surveyed the scene on the floor.

"So we're both sleeping down there?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, my expression challenging. "Is there a problem with that?"

This, actually, made him laugh. "No, not at all," he assured me, putting his pillow next to mine and spreading his blanket out over the two of us.

"Good," I said, cuddling up next to him on my side. He was more than ready to accept my weight, turning to his side as well so we could see each other. We hadn't bothered to change into pajamas or anything – we were happy as we were – and the mood was fitting, somehow. I had the feeling that if I hadn't asked James to stay, he would've asked me himself; there was an air of surrender in his good-night kiss on my cheek, an air of relief as I stroked the stress out of his arm and put him gently to sleep.

Clearly, it's taken me longer to nod off myself, but James is out like a light next to me, his breathing steady and slow like it is in true sleep. He is innocent, that little crease between his eyebrows smoothed out, his body still except the rise and fall of his chest. He looks sweet and untroubled, the kind of peaceful you'd wish on him for the rest of his days if you could.

Me, I'm not nearly as peaceful yet, still awake with all this murkiness floating through my head, but I'm starting to feel a little drowsy and I think I'll chase after it. Thoughts I'm afraid to put names on are starting to harass my poor, tired brain and I need rest, some time away from being here, where nothing is the same anymore. And I think my best bet at getting it is lying right next to me.

Until later, then.

--

A/N: Yes, clearly this was a depressing chapter that I tried to lighten with that little bit of L/J fluff right there. But don't worry – you've already gotten through the most depressing chapters of the lot. Sirius and Napoleon are making fun cameos next chapter and the chapter after is the last of the chapters featuring extremely gloomy thoughts (it features Livvy, surprise, surprise). We're moving on towards happier chapters, I promise.

Go on and review, then, and let's see about posting again soon. Just be gentle. I told you above that I was unsure of how I felt about this chapter.


	60. I Make More Baby Steps Onward

A/N: This chapter, my mission is to lighten the mood and give you fluff. Next chapter, my mission is to let Livvy open up a little – which she hasn't since I killed off her boyfriend. Chapter after, it's more fluff. Gosh, I forgot how much fluff I planned for this story.

Regarding this chapter – you should note that the Zay version of Hogwarts has a _special rule_. Due to an unfortunate oversight on my part, I conveniently forgot that cats were allowed at Hogwarts when Napoleon came into play. Because of this, _I declared that the rule allowing cats had not yet come in place_, just because I didn't want to change my outline. So keep that in mind when you're reading, yeah?

So…that's that. Cheers and enjoy!

--

April 27

**2:30 PM**  
_Status_: Thoughtful

I've always known that the scope of my knowledge is very small, that there are many things I will never understand even if I'm told; but one of the things on my big list of questions about the world that has recently surfaced reflects upon the concept of moving on.

Moving on.

It's terribly strange, moving on, when you really stop and think about it. It's like…one minute you're here, and then the next minute, you're not. You're somewhere else. You've changed position – it feels sudden and inexplicable – and you're not sure why you had to do that.

I know we've all been warned by philosophers galore that it's not a good idea to stay, keep your life in one place; but we've also been warned that it's not a good idea to go too fast, move too recklessly, darting from here to there just because you can.

So my question is, where is the happy middle? When is it okay to cling tightly and never let go? When is it okay to make that sudden movement, that change of sudden and inexplicable position, and put yourself elsewhere? When is it okay to transition who and what and where you are?

Is there a time limit? Hours, days, weeks, months? Years, maybe? Is it definitive, fool-proof, hidden away in some secret rule book we know nothing about? Where is the line that divides healthy movement from unhealthy movement? How do you find it?

Okay, so I guess that's technically more than one question, but my point is, when something happens to you, when are you allowed to move on?

Right now, I feel like I'm at a transition point, a fulcrum if you will, with Russell's death. For the past few days, we've all been shocked, we've all cried, we've all mourned. There was this big, horrible, gaping space where Russell's seat used to be in class which no one has filled. The student body has not been sure how to talk about it, how to deal with it, and I saw it in my friends as well as in others in my classes. It's a difficult thing to absorb, that someone you know is suddenly gone, just like that.

But, now, some of that movement that so confuses me has come to our moods. Slowly, carefully, the school is starting to get back to normal again. Teachers are teaching lessons and giving homework. Our outgoing class clowns are cracking jokes. The black drapes which had been up when we came back from Easter break went down three days after the big announcement; the teachers changed our seats around and Russell's old seat is not empty anymore; his death is not the only thing people talk about between classes anymore; his friends (and there were many of them) finally had more color in their faces than the ghosts.

Even James, who has not peeped a word about Quidditch and the finals since break, held his first practice last night, with Katie Volarie playing for Russell – a practice Livvy did not go to, because she went upstairs and cried for ten minutes after I gently broke the news to her.

James asked me during patrol that night if Livvy would play in the final – he would understand if she didn't – but I told him she would. She loved Quidditch with everything she had and I knew that regardless of her mood right now, she would go hysterical if she didn't play. And I think James knew it too, with the way he nodded and swiftly dropped the subject.

Movement is in the air. Cautiously, small steps are being made, and none of us are in the same place we were in when we first found out about Russell. I can feel my own mood lifting a little bit, not as moody or quiet, but a little more neutral, a little closer to my normal cheerfulness.

It's the same everywhere. People are going out, but also holding each other closer, with this new realization that the people you love might not be alive and well tomorrow. Alice has reported a surge in boys and girls marching up to their significant others (or, the people they wish were their significant others) and saying, "I love you." Couples hold hands tighter than usual and walk closer together, as though afraid that if they get too far away, something bad will happen. Everyone wants company in the evenings – not a single person sits alone in the common room, away from the people they care about.

I can feel that in myself and Alice as well. Alice was always close to Frank, since they've been friends for practically their whole loves – even before Hogwarts – but now, they're inseparable. She won't let go of him. She'll sit in his lap and he'll twirl her hair between his fingers and I can see the understanding between them, the worry.

Me, as well, I haven't slept by myself in days. Ever since that first night, when I invited James to my floor, we have taken turns sleeping in the other's dormitory – always on the floor, always cuddled in close, always afraid to be alone.

It's a scary thing, this movement. It's both right and utterly unfair. I'm not sure what it's supposed to mean and I'm not sure why it has to be the way it is. But…well, I suppose that's just it, isn't it? You're never sure why anything has to be the way it is. You just have to deal with it and hope for the best. What else can you do?

Anyone with a viable solution to this dilemma, please, step forward and share. My ears are ready and open.

-

April 28

**2:30 AM**  
_Status_: Wide awake

So…if I was a normal person, I'd be lying comfortably on my floor, warm and comfortable and asleep with James's arms around me, dead to my world and blissfully so. My body would be in REM sleep, quietly rejuvenating itself for the day to come, and everything would be as it should be.

But, as it is, I'm not a normal person; hence, I'm sitting here, on my bed, away from my sleeping boyfriend and writing by the light of another candle.

On my defense (slightly), I really couldn't sleep. I mean, I did initially, after I patrolled with James and came back to my room; but somewhere around one in the morning, I woke up inexplicably and I couldn't go back to sleep, no matter what I did. So I figured I ought to just write – it relaxes me and besides, I was going to write tomorrow anyway. Might as well do it now, since it's technically tomorrow already and I have nothing better to do than fidget on my floor anyway.

So…here I go.

Tonight, I was fully prepared for another regular old patrol – me and James wandering the corridors, treating patrol like the inside joke that it is – but when I went to go meet James at our standard pre-patrol meeting spot, I was surprised to find him there with Sirius, his schoolbag slung over his shoulder and his hair in his eyes, as usual.

"Hey, Sirius," I said, walking towards the boys and waving to get their attention. "What's going on?"

"Lily!" Sirius beamed and threw his arms out to give me a hug. Grinning, I obliged him and he beamed even wider, if it was possible. "Hi!"

"Is he patrolling with us tonight or something?" I asked as I gave James a hug as well.

"Of course not," said James. "He just had to run something by me quickly."

"Like what?"

"Told you she'd want to know," said Sirius, giving his friend a nudge with his elbow, smirking.

James laughed. "I never said I disagreed," he said. Then, to me, he said, "Sirius reckons Napoleon is getting a little restless and needs a walk. He wants to make sure it's okay with us that he's going to take our mad cat around the seventh floor on a leash."

"Ah, I see," I said, smiling. "And I assume James gave you permission?"

"Yep," said Sirius proudly. "So I'm on my way now. I want to get it done as quickly as possible so that old Minnie doesn't catch me."

"Minnie?" I wrinkled my nose.

"Short for Minerva," Sirius clarified. "McGonagall?"

"Why, in the name of all that is holy, would you call our Head of House Minnie?" I inquired.

"Because it's funny," Sirius explained very frankly. "But I don't call her that to her face or anything. Just in private."

"I see," I repeated, unable to repress my giggle. "Well then, where is Napoleon? Can I say hello?"

"Oh, he's right here – and I'm sure he'd love to say hello," Sirius said as he opened the clasp of his bag. "Come on out and greet our ickle Lily-kins, Napoleon love!"

Sirius's bag meowed loudly and squirmed impatiently. James chuckled as Sirius extracted the struggling Napoleon out of the bag and let him out onto the floor.

"I think Napoleon has a little crush on you," James remarked as Napoleon plopped down next to my feet and rubbed his furry little face against my ankles. "Every time one of us says your name, he goes mad – as in, madder than usual."

This struck me as highly amusing as I picked Napoleon up and held him in my arm like a baby, scratching between his ears and making him purr.

"Good – I like Napoleon too," I said. "So I guess it works out nicely for both of us."

"Glad as I am for your love affair with my cat, I want to take him out on his walk before he claws my eyes out," Sirius said. "Say good-bye."

"Bye, Napoleon," I said, smiling. "Please don't claw Sirius's eyes out."

Napoleon released what sounded to me like a very devious little cackle and allowed me to put him back down on the floor without too much of a fight. He was very good and obedient as Sirius fitted him with a bright red leash; and as the two disappeared down the corridor, Napoleon was the picture of sweetness, walking close to Sirius and occasionally giving his ankle a nuzzle. James smirked after them and began walking as well, his hand rumpling his hair.

"He's such an idiot," he said gruffly, with such profound care in his face that I softened a little bit. "We need to get him one of those jumbo rat mazes or something – his attention span is far too short for his own good."

"I can imagine," I said. "I mean, poor cat, always cooped up in your dormitory like that. No wonder he gets bored."

James gave me a strange look. "Napoleon? I'm talking about Sirius."

I burst out laughing. "James!"

"No, I'm not kidding," said James. "I mean, Napoleon does get bored in my dormitory, but it can be cured with something extra for dinner or a bath with bubbles, something like that. Sirius is the one that needs constant entertainment – he has been wandering the corridors after hours for all the years I've known him and now it tickles him pink to use Napoleon as an excuse and get permission from his best friend, the Head Boy, to do what I know he'll do anyway. He really does need one of those rat mazes."

I gave him a light kick in the leg. "You're so silly," I cooed.

"Whatever," he said flippantly, but his eyes were sparkling with mischief.

I gave him another kick and we changed the subject, turning a corner and now discussing fun highlights of our day. It was part of our nightly routine – we started off with the trivial, on-the-surface stuff about our class-to-class activities, and then moved on to other topics, like family or friends or our various personal beliefs. The conversation thus galloped along, light and easy and familiar, in a way. My thoughts on movement briefly revisited me in the privacy of my head as I realized that this was the first "normal" patrol discussion we'd had since Russell died.

So everything was going fine, ordinary, whatever…until the last fifteen minutes of patrol.

At this point, James was telling me about some childhood prank he'd played on one of his many first cousins, and I was listening and laughing along; when all of a sudden, we ran into Sirius at a T-junction.

"Sirius!" I said, surprised. "Hi!'

"Oh, hello," said Sirius merrily as James blinked in disbelief, trying to get his breath back. "How goes the patrol, you two?"

"Fine, until just now," James commented, giving his friend a sarcastic glare.

"Aww, I love you too, Jamie," Sirius said sweetly as Napoleon mewed below.

"So do you think Napoleon has had his walk?" I asked. "We only have about fifteen minutes before James and I have to go to bed."

"Yeah, yeah, I was just about to head back," said Sirius. "I'm exhausted, myself. It's been a long day."

"Leave Napoleon in my dorm and I'll see you tomorrow, mate," said James, clapping his friend on the back. "Good night."

"Good night, you two," said Sirius, giving James's hair a ruffle and giving me a nod-and-smile combo. "See you tomorrow."

"Bye, Sirius," I said.

Sirius waved and was about to pass behind us, off to bed, when suddenly, he stopped in his tracks. I knew because one moment I could hear his jaunty footsteps, and then the next I didn't. Instinctively, I grabbed James's wrist and we both spun around, curious.

From there, it was very easy to deduce why Sirius had stopped walking: Professor McGonagall had appeared from the other side of the corridor, surprised and not particularly amused to see us here. I felt like melting through the floor at the sharply astonished look on McGonagall's face.

"What is this?" she asked, incredulous.

"Oh, good evening, Professor!" Sirius said cheerfully. I could practically hear the smile in the one sentence. "You look particularly dashing in the torch-light on this fine, fine evening. Is that new hair potion you're using? It's working wonders."

I fought my strong urge to burst out laughing as McGonagall pursed her lips, her mouth somehow even thinner than usual, her eyes cold and so steely I would've run away screaming thirty seconds previously. I glanced quickly at James beside me – he was attempting to maintain composure, but he, too, was fighting not to laugh.

"Mr. Black, I need an explanation _right now_, and maybe I won't give you double-detention," she said coldly. "Why are you out of bed at this hour, why is there a cat with you, and _why_—" here, her piercing gaze fell on us "—were all these transgressions ignored by my Heads, whom I put in charge of patrolling for this very reason?"

I could feel the heat behind my face reddening my cheeks and averted my eyes. I gripped James's hand tighter and prayed he would do all the talking – this was his area of expertise after all, not mine.

Luckily, he did.

"Yes, Professor?" he asked in an extraordinarily polite-but-mischievous tone.

"I need to know what's going on here," McGonagall said sternly. "Care to shed some light, Mr. Potter?"

At least James had the decency to blush slightly here. "Erm…sure. Take it away, Sirius."

Sirius shot James a look that clearly said, 'Thanks a lot, mate,' but cleared his throat and looked the professor straight in the eye.

"I asked James if he would let me take our cat, Napoleon, for a walk around the floor, since he was getting restless, on account of us hiding him in James's dorm from you," he said quite solemnly. "He's our pride and joy, you know. We found him over the winter holidays when we were wandering around London – he was such a tiny thing then, and he was harassing birds, and we had an instant connection, you know."

"Because you both harass the birds?" The sarcasm was heavy in McGonagall's flat tone – heavy enough that I was embarrassed and wanted to laugh again.

"Because we were both kindred spirits," Sirius said emphatically. "He was running around with this energy, and we could relate, because we're energetic too, born to be free. We went up to him and found he was a stray, so we took him home, fed him, let him stay over – and by then, we were goners, Professor. We named him Napoleon and knew we couldn't leave him at James's over the rest of the year. He needs us – and Mrs. Potter would likely kill him at some point, because she hates cats. So we had no choice but to bring him here and raise him at Hogwart – and part of raising him is taking him for walks and stealing food from the kitchens and the Great Hall during mealtimes."

"And you are telling me all about your secret diabolical plan because…?"

McGonagall was visibly confused, and honestly, so were me and James. At that point, why in the world Sirius would tell McGonagall the story of Napoleon the cat when she could bust him at any second was a mystery to us.

However, Sirius didn't miss a beat when he gravely responded, "Because I am trying to show you that I love this cat like my first-born child, ma'am, by telling you the full and honest truth and hoping you'll have mercy on me and let me go without those aforementioned detentions."

All three of us – me, James, and Professor McGonagall – stared blankly at Sirius for several seconds, at a complete loss of what to say. I have to admit, Sirius's move was extremely gutsy – not to mention cheeky as hell – but with McGonagall, you never really know how that kind of move will tide over. Sometimes, it's a move of sheer brilliance; other times, it's the kiss of death for whatever you wanted to get away with. James and I waited with bated breath to see what kind of reaction McGonagall would have.

But we were pleasantly shocked – she cracked one of her rare smiles, the one that lightens her features and makes her look so much younger, and she looked at Sirius almost affectionately.

"You know, I've always wondered why the Headmaster doesn't allow cats in the castle," she said. "I'm a cat Animagi myself! Very well, Mr. Black, I suppose you win this round. Take – what did you say, Napoleon? – up to Mr. Potter's dormitory and continue taking care of him. I will speak to the Headmaster about allowing pet cats from next year."

That astonishingly sunny smile was still on her face as she said, "Have a good evening, Mr. Black. Now please, go to bed. If you don't, I will be forced to give you that detention and frankly, I have had enough of seeing you in detention."

With this, she gathered up her robes, rearranged her features into their usual grim shape, and disappeared down the corridor, back where she had come from. The air was incredibly thick and quiet for several seconds, until Sirius turned back around to face us, his expression impish.

"Well, would you look at that? We got away with it!" he exclaimed. "I need me some high fives over here!"

Immediately, he put two hands out, utterly enthralled, and the two of us obliged him, still in shock.

"Merlin, I thought you were done for!" I said.

"So did I, to be honest," James admitted. "Pads, I will never know how you do it."

"It's an old trick," said Sirius modestly. "Uses that good old element of surprise. McGonagall was so ready for me to lie my way out of it somehow that she decided to take mercy on me when I was honest. And all the emotion I put into my performance appealed to her human side – which, I mean, I'm sure she still has somewhere in there. And I didn't even get detention!"

"You're insane, Sirius, you really are," I said, though I was giggling and my tone was clearly awe-struck. "Now get to bed, would you? And take Napoleon with you. You got out of that one by the skin of your teeth – I'd hate for you to blow it by getting caught by some other teacher."

"All right, all right, Little Miss Moral," said Sirius, smirking at me. "I'll be off now. See you lot in the morning."

"Bye, Padfoot," said James, giving his friend another one of those monstrous claps in the back.

Sirius saluted us both and gathered Napoleon up in his arms. Napoleon mewed loudly and Sirius took off, sprinting down the corridor and out of sight, eager to get back to his dormitory and tell the rest of the Marauders of his lucky escape, most likely. This left James and I alone in the corridor, with our patrol practically over – and we were still in giggles from Sirius's face-off with McGonagall.

"C'mon, let's get to your dormitory," said James, his eyes alight with amusement.

"All right," I agreed; and just like that, he grabbed my hand and we sprinted down the corridor together as well, James leading the way because he runs faster than I do, and we made our way back to my familiar portrait, my familiar room.

We had set up our blankets before the patrol this time and I was glad we did – we simply collapsed on top of them, exhilarated with my senses on fire, and I looked him in the eye, drinking in the sight of him. We stared at each other for a couple of seconds, our exhales heavy and erratic; and, without warning, we both combusted into laughter at the same moment.

I don't know what it was, or what set us off – we just started laughing and laughing and laughing, unable to breathe, unable to stop. I doubled up over my blankets and he grabbed my hand and we laughed hysterically, in that way you sometimes do when everything's right and you're happy and you can't imagine being anywhere else, with anyone else.

And then, without warning, James's giggling mouth was on my giggling mouth, and we were kissing through our laughter, hard and warm and wet and wonderful. I didn't resist, didn't put up any kind of fight – I accepted his pressure, applied my own, and brought him into me, my hands clutching his hair, my laughter subsiding as I concentrated on our kiss, which was much more determined than it's been on nights past.

"Merlin, Lils," he groaned, pulling me on top of him and kissing me again, again, again. "You know, this is all I've ever wanted."

"What do you mean?" I asked, breathless.

"Just…this," he said, holding my face in his hands, the look on his face wild, unstoppable, uninhibited. "Being with you. I knew we could do it. I knew it was going to be worth it. I just…I wanted you and I can't imagine how I've lived eighteen years without you."

And before I could think, before I could formulate a suitable response, he kissed me again and I could feel that surge, that activation behind my navel, that incomprehensible sensation that eludes modern English. It was so powerful, this feeling, and I was lost in it, drowning in it. My surroundings, all my rational thoughts – they were gone, melted away, disregarded.

The only things that mattered to me were the feel of his weight under me, the motion of his lips on mine, his hands squeezing my waist like they were never going to let me go. My senses were still on fire, sharpened like the pointiest diamond, and I needed him, I needed him, I needed him – I needed all of him.

I know I've been in this place before, where the relationship is still new and everything about him is perfect and you swear this night alone could fuel the rest of your life. I know that at this point, you are committed in every way; that you could swear he's going to be around forever; that he's something special, you've never done this before.

On those two previous nights where I've come to this terrifying avalanche, tidal wave of a place, my mind was gone and my body was ready and I let myself do what felt right. I let myself become a prisoner to the body chemicals raging through my blood stream and I made love to that boy who meant everything at the time. I let him have me.

But tonight, somewhere in my frozen gray matter, these memories returned to me. It feels right at that time, allowing that boy to take your clothes off your body and expose you, be with you in the most intimate way humans can do. It feels like it's the only logical option available. But then you wake up tomorrow morning, your clothes gone and that boy next to you, and you wonder now, after the fact, if what you did was really worth it. You can't even remember being attracted to him. You're not sure that you were ready to go that extra step.

From there, the relationship dies and you realize what sex really does. It's not a fling in the middle of the night, easily forgotten. It's…well, it's more than that. Much, much more. And if you're not ready to be that intimate with each other, and you do it anyway, you have no business staying together for too much longer – and you don't.

And even though James is different, James is special, James is better than everything I've ever wanted, I found that I didn't want to throw us into those uncertain waters just yet. My body was screaming for it, but I didn't want to have sex.

So, even though it practically killed me, I made the right decision. I cooled off the feverish mood, wore down the desperation, and made my kisses slower, deeper, richer, asking him without a sound to come back to Earth with me. He groaned again, although the nature of this one was more difficult to decipher, and he helped me cool it off, kissing me sweetly instead of hungrily.

His mouth made its way down my jaw and to my neck, under my hair, and he murmured into that hollow connecting my neck and shoulder, "I love you, Lily. I love you so, so much."

Somehow, tiny tears pricked my eyelids and I quietly responded, "I love you too, James. Too, too much."

He paused, taking this in, and then asked, "It's okay if I stay here with you tonight, right?"

"Why do you think I let you set up your blankets here?" I asked.

"Well…at _that _timeit was okay," he said. "Is it still okay?"

"If you left me now, I'd follow you into your dorm and hex you into next week," I said. "Does that answer your question?"

He grinned and pulled his wand out of his pocket. Wordlessly, he put out the lights in my room and threw his wand on my bed. I threw mine too, but I know I missed because it was already dark and now, with my writing candle on, I can see that it landed next to my bed instead of on top of it. Then I said, "Good night."

"Good night."

I felt him move, seeming to search for something, and then plant a kiss upon my chin.

"Odd spot for a good-night kiss, don't you think?" I teased.

"Sorry," he responded. "Couldn't find your mouth."

"C'mon, then, look for it," I taunted. "Bet you can't find it."

"Bet I can so," said James haughtily. He's a sucker for a challenge, no matter how small it is.

"All right, find it," I said.

In the dark, I heard the blanket rustle as he reclaimed his hands. When he had them, he located my cheeks, holding them as he had when he had kissed me, this time in the context of finding my face. Once this was established, he began to kiss his way around my features – my chin again, then my jaw, up to my ear, around my temples, my forehead, my eyelids. He explored my nose and the expanses of my cheeks, leaving a trail of romantic little kisses around my face until finally, he found my lips and kissed them lusciously for several seconds.

"See? Told you I would find it," he said smugly.

"You did," I said approvingly. "Well done."

"Bet you can't find _my _mouth," said James.

I came forward and gave him another kiss.

"I did – and I got it the first time," I informed him.

"Lucky guess," he told me.

"Of course." Smirking, I lay my head on my pillow and ran my hand through James's hair. "Good night."

"Good night."

And only now did we finally begin to fall asleep – curled up together, my skin still tingling from all those places where he kissed me, my whole body tingling from all those emotions that had previously used me as a high-speed Indy 500 track.

I swear, diary, I wasn't playing the overly-dramatic, woe-is-me teenage girl when I said being with him is nothing like being with anyone else. I don't know what it is about him that does it to me, that sets me off so completely.

Maybe it's his earnestness, maybe his honesty. Maybe it's his loyalty, the fact that he spent his teenage life chasing after me and he seems happy even now that he's had me for over a month. Maybe it's the way he laughs, the way he trusts me, the way he cried a few days ago.

Maybe it's how he rumples his hair all the time and holds my hand and doesn't mind it when I eat like a hog in front of him. How he makes me feel like I'm special, and beautiful, and loved.

Or maybe it's just all of him – everything he does to me and to him, all those quirky habits of his, rolled into that one human being that has somehow become a central fixture on my world.

And, diary, I wasn't speaking lightly when I told him I loved him.

James once told me, when we were discussing the fault lines that drove Livvy and Russell apart, that conflict brings out what's true in people. Well, conflict came and it knocked on my door and it blew my house down, and all I can think about is how much I want James in my life, now and forevermore.

After the next few words, I'm going to close this little book, hop into my blankets, and hug that boy to death and beyond. Even if I don't go to sleep, I want to be with him. Not to be soppy, or dependent, or ridiculous. Just because nothing is for certain and recent events have told me every second counts.

So…until later, then.

--

A/N: While writing the ending sections of this chapter, I realized that this fluff is getting pretty ridiculous now. I'm so sick of it. I'm going to go back to my outline and cut some. Gosh, I'm so, so, so, _so _sorry about all the "oh my gosh, you're special and I love you and I need you" crap I'm throwing at you. I wish there was a better way to phrase it, but I haven't found one yet. The least I can do is promise that it won't continue to stuff itself in your faces from here on out.

Maybe it's just the time it takes for me to churn these chapters out, but this drama is feeling a little stretched out to me. I'd cut next chapter if it wasn't so important to Livvy's character development. But, as it is, we need our last aftermath-esque chapter on this Russell thing and then I promise, we're moving on. 'Kay?

Potentially cutting a chapter in the next few days to make the total 70. I need to talk to Niki about it first, though. She usually knows what to do in these types of situations.

Cheers, you lot. You're fabulous. Please review on your way out.


	61. I Find Some Sort of Resolution

A/N: Wow, I'm astonished at the vehement reaction I got when I said I'd cut fluff. I didn't realize fluff was so important to you guys. Maybe I won't cut it, but I'm still not sure. It's…I dunno, it's kind of silly. Legitimate, but irritating to write. I think I'm going to keep the idea, but rearrange a few things in my outline.

That means…_total chapter count has been set to 70, you lot_. And we're at 61 now. I'm telling you, it doesn't feel like it, but this story is starting to wind down a little bit.

This chapter is pretty damn depressing, but I promise, promise, promise – this is the last of such chapters, 'kay?

Let's get through this, then, shall we?

_This chapter you should listen to_: October and My Immortal, by Evanescence; Passing Afternoon, by Iron and Wine; Worlds Apart, by The Veronicas.

--

April 29

**3:15 PM**  
_Status_: Shaken

After the bombshell dropped on me after Easter break, and even before that, I've come to figure out that the most game-changing days of your life are often the days you don't plan on having. You get up in the morning, like you do every other morning, and then things change, just like that, and you're left dangling off the edge, clinging on for dear life, wondering how you got here and why.

That's the nature of surprise – it takes your world over, suddenly and without warning, and that's when you figure out who you really are, how much you can really take.

And me…I think I've surpassed my own expectations for myself in these past few days.

Before this, I would've thought I would drown under the misery; but when you really look at it, I think I've done a damn good job. I've held up for Alice, James, and Livvy – all three being clearly traumatized – and I let them need me. I've been keeping up okay with class-work (probably the craziest part of the ordeal – I mean, I'm barely caught up when my emotional health is in fact stable) and I've even squeezed in a little studying for NEWT exams.

Even after all that has been thrown at me – even after today – I've made it out okay. Maybe a little worse for the wear, maybe a little belittled and helpless, but I'm hanging on. Somehow, someway, I really, really am.

And this idea – of my having an actual spine, I mean – hit me today after my latest conversation with Alice and Livvy.

We were sitting in my dormitory, as we've been doing for the past several nights, in our old respective places – Alice plopped on my belly atop my bed, me sitting at my desk, Livvy plopped on her belly on the floor. The air was quiet, save for the sound of scratching quills, as we muddled through tonight's work-load.

Livvy has been getting better about doing her homework in the past couple of nights – she's found that it's a very good distraction from whatever else is going on – but her pace is still slower than mine and Alice's, her quill lingering a few seconds too long over the parchment before she writes something down.

I was in the midst of wracking my brains for that last damned use of dragon blood when, from totally out of the blue, Livvy's soft voice broke the spell of (relative) silence.

"Erm…Lils? Alice?" Her voice was barely over a whisper, and yet, we somehow heard her.

"Yes?" Alice answered before me, her voice audibly careful, but so much louder and obvious than Livvy's.

"You okay, Livs?" I asked, peering down at her from my spot on the bed. She appeared subdued in a determined sort of way – like she wasn't sure if she should speak her mind or not, but wanted to. "Is something up?"

Livvy chewed on her lower lip for a moment, her brown eyes averted as she mulled over to the best answer to this question. Alice and I watched her with growing interest, our homework already forgotten.

Then, she, too, pushed her book aside and sat up, her legs crossed Indian style and her posture slumped inward, her eyes now up at us.

"I…don't know what I'm doing," she said, the hopeless dejection evident from even these first words. "You two have been just…I don't even know, just amazing, after…well, after that night…and, I mean, we never really…well, we never really talked about it…so…"

"So you want to talk about…Russell?" Alice synthesized in her usual direct, almost boorish way, watching Livvy carefully.

I almost called Alice out on this – almost told her to shut up and stop talking if she couldn't be tactful – but I was taken slightly aback to see that Livvy, despite clearly looking like she was going to be ill, was fighting to hold her composure at the sound of Russell's name.

She didn't crumple, didn't fall apart. Instead, she simply said, "Yes. I do."

Deciding it would be best if I took over from here, I shot Alice a look and asked as gently as I could, "Well…what do you specifically want to talk about, Livvy?"

Livvy swallowed thickly, only now letting the tears prick at her eyelids. She bit her lip harder and tucked her thin hair behind her ear, her eyes towards the ceiling now.

"I…don't even know," she whispered. "I just…I feel so lost. I feel like I'm nothing, nowhere. I always have a headache, ranging from mildly uncomfortable to unbearable. I start getting into a lecture in class, but then I suddenly remember that Russ will never learn this lecture as I am…and I can't focus anymore. And all I want to do is cry, because God, it just…it _hurts _like you wouldn't believe."

She swallowed again, her fists clenched together. "I feel helpless," she said, looking me right in the eye. "I feel like nothing I do will do anything. I feel like there's no point in being here, because…because I screwed this up. All of it. Russ was a better person than I will ever be, and what we had was real, but it somehow got lost along the way – which is _horrible_. He was the real deal and I couldn't hold onto him when I was given the choice to. He d-d-died thinking that I didn't l-love him and I c-can't forgive myself for that."

Alice and I were silent as Livvy trailed off, now uncrossing her legs and hugging her knees to her chest, her whole person quivering. She looked so soft and fragile, like a doll close to collapse, and without thinking, Alice and I leapt off the bed and the desk chair respectively, flying down to the ground with Livvy, sitting beside her, forming our old, familiar triangle.

"Livvy…" As always, I was at a loss of what to say. That sensation of being a clueless, naïve, immature child came back to me in a tsunami's wave as I rubbed her back, an outsider looking through a frosted window as I attempted to make sense of her profound grief. I was so young – I was in so far over my head – I couldn't see the sky anymore for all the things keeping me down here.

"Just…dreadful things go through my head everyday," she said through her sobs. "Like if it had been me on that bridge; if I was to die and you'd have to put up the black drapes again; if I killed myself now and finished the whole deal, stopped feeling whatever the hell this is…"

And here, finally, the tears she'd been holding back today came out, trickled down her nose and fell on her lap; and, in response, I felt them in my eyes too, hot and inevitable, though I didn't quite let them out yet.

But Alice's reaction was a little bit different – she gasped loudly and, seemingly instinctively, slapped Livvy hard across the face.

The slap rang out in the air like a gunshot and shattered the sad intimacy of a moment before. Both mine and Livvy's tears stopped abruptly and we both stared in disbelief at Alice, too astonished to comprehend the weight of Livvy's words.

"Alice, what the bloody _fuck _was that all about?" I inquired as Livvy rubbed her red cheek, still speechless.

"Don't you _dare _think about suicide," Alice practically growled, her eyes wide with horror but her mouth set with determination as her mood made its abrupt shift. "It's cowardly and futile. It's the easy way out. Dying…dying is _easy_. _Living _is what's difficult – and you've never been good at it."

Livvy looked helplessly at Alice, her mouth half-open like a goldfish. Her hand remained on her cheek, but she didn't look angry. She just looked tired, done; and when Alice was in one of these terrible, destructive, all-consuming moods, this was the worst thing she could look like.

"This…no! Absolutely not! Stop looking at me like that!" Alice said fiercely. "You…you think you could just disappear and no one would miss you? That no one would be affected by what you did? This is your biggest issue, Livvy, the one that drives me absolutely bonkers – it's that you don't realize how much you affect the people around you."

"Alice…"

Again, I was caught in the middle between my friends. On the one hand, I had a girl who was like paper dunked in the ocean, ready to crumble at the slightest touch; and then on the other hand, I had a girl who was filled with fire, about ready to explode at the slightest touch.

I tried to reach one and she did fall apart. I tried to reach the other one and she just combusted. What did they expect me to do with them?

Well…in Alice's case, she expected me to shut up and listen to her.

"You think you're the only one who wishes she could just disappear when the going gets tough?" Alice fired at Livvy. "You think you're the only one who's been shaken completely by this Death Eater thing? You think you're the only one who lies awake at night and thinks about her own mortality? You think you're the only one who hasn't said what should've been said a long time ago?"

"No, that's not what I—"

"Yes, that's _exactly _what you mean," Alice hollered at her, her eyes wild with emotion and shiny with tears of her own. "You think you're the only one in the world who feels the way you do – you think you're so misunderstood and that all the world's troubles have been dumped on top of you – and while it's true that you're going through something impossible, you can't expect to…I dunno, just tell us that you wanted to kill yourself and expect us to _take _it!"

More tears fell from Livvy's eyes and she shook her head.

"You hurt us, Livvy," Alice continued, her tone thunderous. "There's the simple truth of it. You suddenly decided you'd had enough of us and started to ignore us, for things that weren't our fault. And then, your ex-boyfriend dies and now you're here again, with us, and you keep dumping your _shit _all over us, things that aren't like you, like suicide, and that's _not _okay with me!"

"Alice!" I couldn't hold myself back anymore – I had to cry out and only this alerted Alice to the fact that I was, in fact, here in the room with her.

"Maybe I'm harsh," she said, her tone much softer and much more tremulous, "but these are things that need to be said. For everything you do, there's a consequence. Livvy seems to have forgotten that lately."

I reached my hand out to Alice – to touch her cheek, or her hair, or her arm, or some part of her that I could reach – but before I could pull her in for a hug, Livvy started crying for real, her hands shaking and her face a bright red.

"I'm sorry!" she wailed in a moment of pure emotion. "I know, I know…I've screwed this up. I was selfish and didn't realize that I was so wrong. I…I lost control and I couldn't find my way back. I kept trying t-to get it back, figure out where I was and what I was doing…but then I'd mess something else up and feel worse and there didn't seem to be a way out."

"There's always a way out," Alice insisted through her own storm, her anger dissolving and becoming pure distress, desperation. "Instead of shoving us away, you need to _talk _to us. You can't leave us like you did."

Livvy coughed like she had no air in her lungs with which to cough, and managed to say, "It felt like you could never hear anything I said. To you, I was always in the wrong. I couldn't c-catch a break."

"You're one of our best friends, Livs," Alice said, firmly despite everything. "When you're in the wrong, we've got to tell you – and you've got to listen."

"I'm sorry," Livvy kept crying, over and over again. "I'm so sorry."

By this point, all three of us were crying, fully and freely. I don't know where, through this dialogue, I finally broke; but I did and after this, there weren't any more words left to say. Like with James, words failed us. They weren't necessary. What we needed weren't platitudes or reassurances that everything would be okay – we just needed a good, long cry with the people we loved. Livvy was right – we had never talked about these things that have been eating us up and now we had to confront them. So that was exactly what we did.

For many long, shapeless minutes, we curled up beside my bed, holding each other closely and sobbing into one another's clothes. Livvy was in the middle, being hugged to death and actually holding her end up, squeezing us back. Our hair mixed and intermingled, dark brown, brown, and red, and we couldn't tell where one of us ended and where the other one started. We were just one big blob of feelings and fears, trying to make sense of a world so much bigger than us.

We stayed like that for what felt like years, our tears flowing, then stopping, and then drying off our faces, the mood like skin rubbed raw. I felt like I had died and been resuscitated, and time seemed to both crawl and make leaps and bounds away from us. It was like all the color in the world had inverted and I couldn't make sense of my surroundings. It was like being aged a million years. I've never felt so slight, so sore. I've never been in these scary places before.

Eventually, Alice broke the lull by wiping her eyes, sniffling loudly, and saying she needed to see Frank. Livvy and I bid her good-bye as she got up off the floor and exited out of the portrait hole, seeking the caring, unassuming comfort of her boyfriend, not looking back at us as she escaped. This left me alone with Livvy, but not for long.

"Livs, you look exhausted," I said gently, rubbing the brilliant dark circles under eyes, like bruises. "Have you slept a full night since…Russell?"

"No," Livvy admitted.

"So you go take a nap," I said. "You can stay in my bed if you want. I'll wake you up for dinner and then you can go back to sleep."

"That sounds good," she said gratefully, genuinely.

"Right," I said. "So off you go. You can get a good four hours if you lie down right this minute."

She nodded. "I'll do that."

I smiled weakly and stood up, offering her my hand to join me. She took it and firmly, I pulled her back to her feet, which were much solider since the first morning we did this. She walked to my bed and lay down on top of it, her body curled up into fetal position. Her breathing was already slowed, her eyelids fluttering like indecisive butterflies. She desperately needed this rest.

I turned to get out of the dormitory and give her some peace; but as I was about ready to open the portrait and leave, I was stopped by the sound of my name.

"Lily?"

At once, I turned around, and found that Livvy's eyes were now open and trained on me.

"Yes?" I asked, pausing.

She exhaled shakily and said as honestly as she ever has, "Thank you. For everything. I know…I know you have good reason never to speak to me again, but you are and I appreciate it more than I can tell you. I really do. You're the best friend I've ever had – or will ever have."

Something in me warmed and glowed at her open, honest words, and I felt a shy smile make its way onto my mouth.

"And you're one of my best friends too, even if you act like an arse sometimes," I confessed. "Everyone kept telling me to let you go, during that period of silence…but I didn't want to. I still don't."

Livvy smiled sadly. "Let's see how that goes," she said.

"For now, sleep," I said. "Like I said, I'll wake you for dinner."

Livvy sighed again and settled in, her eyes closing. "Bye, Lils."

"Bye, Livvy," I said quietly as I opened the portrait hole and slipped out.

Obviously, I went back to the dorm about two seconds later to grab this diary and slip to the common room to write. Livvy didn't even hear me – she was already shutting down, her body gratified for the chance to rejuvenate itself at long last. Now I'm in the common room in my corner chair, still struggling with where to place my feelings after this latest development.

This afternoon was like another catharsis, in a way. Unresolved feelings that we had never addressed finally came out in the open and sat there, right in front of us, daring us to figure them out. And despite all her tough talk, Alice never really got over the previous drama either – she missed her every ounce that I, the sentimental one, had.

Friendship is one of those weird things that surprises you around every turn. Sure, it's like a greeting card sometimes, bright and colorful and cheerful and perfect; but other times, it's the most painful thing you can ever endure. Sometimes, it hurts like hell. And there are instances, like this one, where you give in to your better nature and, despite all the reasons to say no, you say yes, and you decide to give someone another chance, because you love them in ways you can't understand, no matter how many mistakes they make.

Whatever she's done, I do believe Livvy is a good person. I do believe that she's just…lost under the weight of her current load. People do that sometimes. But I think that with a little love and a little time, she can work this out. She will find a way to be herself again. This year has been rough on her and even now, I'm ready to be with her and work it out. We are not going to let this break her.

I could be considered a lot of weak, spineless things for the decisions I'm making, but I don't quite see it that way. I mean, I think we all have friends like that, where we break all our rules and change everything we know in order to keep them around, to see them in a better light.

My chest is too full of wonder and leftover ache to say anything more. I think I'll go downstairs to the kitchens and have myself a few éclairs. It's Saturday afternoon and despite all the scariness, the sadness, going on right now, seeing Livvy fall asleep and Alice get her emotions off her chest has convinced me that through some means beyond my current understanding, everything is going to be okay. Somehow. Or at least, it'll come close to whatever okay means.

It's like what Alice said – there's always a way out and I think, after a confused and stressful week, we've finally found one.

I'll ask James, Alice, and Frank to join me on my éclair hunt, I think. So…I suppose I'll write again a bit later, then.

--

A/N: This chapter was, obviously, emotional; but for once, I didn't think too hard about being overwrought. Sometimes, you do have to be overwrought. Sometimes, there are just some terribly clichéd things that need to be said. And it's not like this happens all the time or anything, so I don't feel that guilty. (Well, I kind of do, but not enough to change too much.)

Still playing around with my outline specifics, but you're definitely going to see some prefect planning for the dance. Very fun, very light, and I've found room for a little bit of fluff in there. I think you should like it. With all this craziness, a little bit of lightness is nice. When you break your leg in a few moments out of time, the doctor makes you rest for a couple of months. You know?

So…please review on your way out of the browser and I'll see you next chapter.


	62. I Help Further the Dance Plans

A/N: Okay…so I've been doing some outline re-arranging and this is what I've come up with.

This chapter and the next are filler-ish. I'm sorry, but that's the truth of it, and I like them as they are. I've been throwing some heavy stuff at you and two easy chapters are definitely in order. I've got a prefect meeting here and next chapter is some purely light-hearted Marauder fun, plus an introduction to the last "big development" of the story. We spend the subsequent three chapters dealing with the various shades of the "big development." Then, we have the big dance, graduation, a last transition-filler with narrative summary, and then an ending. And there you go, the story is over.

So…yes, I'm cutting the fluff originally intended to be in this chapter. But don't worry. You're getting a lot more fluff – and better fluff! – later on instead.

So please your cheerful, happy filler, guys. I think you need it – some of you have informed me that I've made you cry and while that's kind of cool (in a totally non-morbid way), I want to make you smile again.

Cheers!

--

May 1

Today at the prefect meeting…

JAMES: So…it's nice to see everyone here today! Hi!

EVERYBODY: Hi!

JAMES: Are we missing someone?

KATE: Will. He had to run to Pomfrey's and couldn't make it.

JAMES: Right. Well, that's fine. So…erm…I understand that you all had different jobs to complete to prepare for this dance. Why don't we talk about what we want to do to decorate the hall? Lily and I don't know what your plans are. What do you want to do?

ME: Have you got everything figured out yet?

ANNIE: Oh, of course we have. (pushes her glasses further up her nose and extracts a stack of pictures from her bag) Here are photographs of the things we wanted to put up in the Great Hall.

ABIGAIL: Our theme is night on the town, so we wanted to have live fairies floating around the Great Hall. And Annie somehow got hold of Celestina Warbeck – she's a little pricey, but she would be great. She can do faster and slower songs.

ME: Celestina Warbeck? Really?

ANNIE: (blushes) She is my aunt's first cousin.

JAMES: I _love _Celestina Warbeck!

EVERYONE: (stares at James)

JAMES: What? My mum has all her albums and she's all I'm allowed to listen to when I'm at home. You grow to love it after the millionth time you've heard it.

ME: James's musical tastes aside, I think Celestina Warbeck sounds brilliant. But are you sure she'd be able to work out the faster songs? I don't think we'll be slow-dancing all evening.

MAVIS: Yeah, she should be fine. If not, I mean, we can have her on intermittently, between recorded music.

JAMES: Sirius has plenty I'm sure he can donate, if necessary.

ME: Isn't it a little rude to invite a live singer, and then make them dawdle while you play them intermittently?

MICHAEL: If so, we've been snubbing my Uncle Tom for years now.

ABIGAIL: (giggles)

ME: So…do you think we should ask her if that's okay? I mean, we can just borrow Sirius's collection if she says no.

ANNIE: We ought to ask her. Or, I mean, I can have her in for the last hour or so of the dance – before then, we can do a recording mix.

MICHAEL: Can Abby and I make the mix?

JAMES: Way to step up there, Mike! Sure you can!

MICHAEL: …Please don't call me Mike.

JAMES: Fine, fine, Michael. You and Abby can make the mix.

ABIGAIL: My name is Abigail.

JAMES: I really can't cut a break with you folks today, can I?

ME: (giggles)

ABIGAIL: Only Mikey can call me Abby.

JAMES: …

ME: Okay, okay. So we've got the mix people settled, then. Annie, ask Celestina if she can do the last hour, that's a good idea. Erm…what about the decorations you guys chose? Jonathon, do you want to show us?

JONATHON: Sure thing, Lils.

ME: …My name is Lily.

JONATHON: (stares blankly at me)

JAMES: Just show us, Jonathon.

JONATHON: Fine. Okay. Here are the bushes and shrubbery Mavis wanted to surround the sides of the hall with. Here are the fairies Abigail wanted. Here's Annie's deal on about a million candles that we can have floating around the walls, to make the mood more intimate. I wanted to have a gazebo thing in the middle for friends to sit together and take a break from the festivities. Here's the table where we want to put drinks – it matches the theme – and we got Rosmerta down in Hogsmeade to cut us a deal on the food.

JAMES: I'm impressed. You lot have been busy.

MAVIS: We have! Don't you love it?

ME: Actually, I do. I really, really do.

JAMES: So do I…but how much does all this cost?

ANNIE: (pushes glasses solemnly up her nose again and extracts another thick stack of papers from her bag) These are the estimates I got from the Hogsmeade shops. We got some good deals once we explained why we wanted what we did. I mean, on the fairies alone…

ME: Yes, but how much does it _cost_?

ANNIE: (sighs) According to my calculations, we need six hundred and fifty Galleons. Expensive, but worth it, I think.

JAMES: Well…Michael, how much money do we have?

MICHAEL: Five hundred.

JAMES: I see. So we're still a hundred and fifty Galleons short. That's a problem.

ANNIE: I tried to cut as much as I could from our budget, but we really need all this stuff. It will make the dance worth attending. We want it to be a spectacle. It's our first, after all.

ME: You're absolutely right, Annie, but how do you propose we pay for it?

KATE: Well…we could do some sort of school-wide fundraiser, maybe. Get everyone involved.

MAVIS: What kind would we do, though?

MICHAEL: We could auction off extra credit for class.

JONATHON: (snort) Like the teachers would let us do that.

TREY: We could have candy!

ME: That would add to our expense – and we need profit. We need something either very cheap or free.

TREY: Candy can be cheap.

ME: Not at the scale we want it at.

MICHAEL: We could have a dunking auction – have big bowls of green slime and people pay to watch their person of choice dunk their heads in it. (snickers) I'd pay to see that stuffy old McGonagall do it.

JAMES: (holds back a snicker) That's invasive and potentially disastrous. I wouldn't do that.

ME: James is right; it leaves too much room for people to go mad.

MICHAEL: Are you agreeing because he's your boyfriend or because you actually agree?

EVERYONE: (stares at me)

ME: (blushes) Because I agree, Michael, goodness. I wouldn't want to see a big bowl of green slime left in _your _hands.

MICHAEL: (grins) Fair enough.

KATE: We could try…a dating auction.

EVERYONE: (stares at her now)

KATE: (blushes a little bit) A few of my Muggle friends were telling me about it – it's been done before in Muggle schools and it garners a lot of money.

JONATHON: Well, what is it? How does it work?

KATE: Basically, you pick a whole bunch of people – girls and boys – and auction off a date with them. We can bid by tens of Galleons – with just a few people going on only one date, we could raise a lot of money.

EVERYONE: (stares blankly at one another)

JAMES: (flatly) No. Absolutely not. That's not a good idea at all and as Head Boy, I veto it completely.

JONATHON: C'mon, that's actually a good idea! It'll get us the money we need in no time! And all it takes is one date, like Kate said.

JAMES: No. We are human beings, not auctioned items. We're not doing this.

KATE: Lily, would you be okay with doing this?

ME: Erm…

JAMES: It doesn't matter if she's okay with it or not. I've already vetoed it and you need both our consents to get the idea passed.

KATE: But do you agree, Lily?

ME: So long as I'm not auctioned off anywhere, I don't mind.

KATE: Well, you don't have to auction if you don't want to. It's strictly volunteers.

JAMES: I'm still against the concept morally. We aren't doing it.

TREY: If this is about auctioning off your precious girlfriend, Kate already answered your worries – Lily won't have to be auctioned off to anyone.

JAMES: (reddens) This isn't about auctioning off Lily. It's about auctioning off any other girl. It's objectifying and crude. We have better ways of making money.

JONATHON: Yes, but this is efficient and easy. And it's fun.

JAMES: For whom?

TREY: Everyone! The auctioneers get a date with a fabulous boy or girl; the boy or girl gets to spend a night with someone they might not know very well. Very good for the social dynamic, right, Annie?

ANNIE: No. I'm with James on this one.

EVERYONE: (stares at Annie)

ANNIE: It's demeaning. We have better ways to get money out of people. Why don't we just keep collection tins with us and raise…how many are we, eight? Raise about nineteen Galleons each and we can pay for this without selling ourselves off to our classmates.

KATE: But it would be so fun!

JAMES: We are not having a date auction and that's final. McGonagall would never allow it and neither would I.

KATE: (sighs dramatically) Fine. So…what, are we doing Annie's collection tin idea?

ME: It sounds good to me.

JONATHON: Well…I _suppose_…

MAVIS: I can live with a collection tin.

MICHAEL: (lazily raises his hand) I'm in.

ABIGAIL: Me too.

TREY: Yes. Let's do it.

JAMES: I like it.

ME: Sounds like we're decided, then.

JAMES: Yeah, I guess we are. So…is there anything else you guys want to talk about before we disperse?

TREY: The date is June 8th, right?

KATE: Yeah.

TREY: So do you want us to come in on that morning – since exams are over – and we can oversee deliveries, set everything up?

JAMES: Yeah, let's do that. Do you need me and Lily to supervise, or are you okay by yourselves?

MICHAEL: It's fine. You can sleep in.

JAMES: (grins) I can live with that.

ME: Have you guys put in the orders on everything yet? So that it actually delivers on the day?

ANNIE: I was waiting until you all approved before I set it up.

ME: So you'll put it in tonight?

ANNIE: Yes. I will.

JAMES: Brilliant. We've got food, music, decorations, deliveries, budget, everything. Any last second things you want to bring up as a group? We're not going to meet again until June 8th otherwise.

ANNIE: I think we're good to go, James.

JAMES: I think so too, Annie. So…let's get out of here! Nice work today!

ABIGAIL: So…June 8th?

MICHAEL: Yeah, Abby. I'll remind you, don't worry.

JONATHON: See you lot later, then. I've got some homework to do.

At this point, the prefects – plus James and I – got up from our seats, stretched out, and began making our way to the door. Annie and Jonathon remained behind, Annie sorting out her papers and writing herself a note or two – probably about the deliveries – and Jonathon was tying his shoelace. James grabbed my hand, squeezing it sweetly, and we were walking out together, talking about going to the common room to do homework, when I suddenly heard Annie speak.

ANNIE: Jonathon? Are you still here?

JONATHON: Yeah.

At once, I slowed a little by the door, my ears perked. James looked at me strangely.

"What are you doing?" he asked me.

"Annie Potent needs to ask Jonathon something," I said. "I think she's going to ask him to the dance."

"So?" James stared at me uncomprehendingly. "This is none of your business."

"Maybe not…but I know Annie Potent's kind of had this thing for Jonathon for a long time – Lord knows why – and I think she's going to ask him to be her date," I told him quietly, excitedly. "And Alice always get the gossip – I want to see if I can get some too."

James shook his head. "You can't be serious."

"I am," I hissed at him. "Now shut up, she's talking!"

ANNIE: So…are you excited about this dance?

JONATHON: Yeah, I am.

ANNIE: Me too.

JONATHON: It's going to be great.

ANNIE: I know.

"They're just making small-talk," said James.

"Exactly – that's almost always how a girl asks a guy to a dance," I explained. "She dawdles. She gets him talking and then springs it on him."

"I've always been a fan of the direct approach, myself," he remarked.

"Oooh, I think this is it – shhh!" I put my finger on James's mouth and he gave it a small, sharp bite in protest. I threw him a filthy look and wiped my finger on his shirt, my ears still listening hard.

ANNIE: So…have you got a date for the dance yet?

JONATHON: I've had a few offers, but I haven't decided. Why?

ANNIE: Well…I dunno…I guess I was just hoping…maybe…if you wanted to go with _me_ to the dance…I'd greatly benefit from the pleasure of accompanying you.

JONATHON: …Are you asking me out?

ANNIE: (probably blushing violently) I suppose colloquially, yes, my offer could be considered 'asking you out.'

JONATHON: Um…maybe…

ANNIE: Well, if you would like to take another one of the other offers you mentioned, I'd understand…

JONATHON: I don't know yet.

ANNIE: That's fine. Please let me know when you figure it out. Even if you don't want to go with me.

JONATHON: Okay.

Here, I heard footsteps – likely Annie's – approaching the door. At once, I took hold of James's wrist and dragged him to the statue.

"Pretend like we've been talking for a few minutes about the dance," I requested in an undertone.

James rolled his eyes. "You can't be serious."

"Well, I am," I said resolutely. "C'mon, please?"

"All right, all right," James grumbled. He sighed and made a point to give me every disgusted expression his face could produce before looking at me like he was utterly engaged in conversation. I tried to match his expression and watch Annie Potent through my peripheral vision at the same time.

She was walking down the corridor away from us, her steps quite brisk, her head bent down so I knew she was feeling emotional. I felt a wave of empathy for poor Annie Potent, a girl who just seemed so awkward around people. It must have taken her so much to ask Jonathon out and he hadn't even given her an answer, hadn't bothered to put her mind at rest after all the stressing it had likely gone through.

I openly turned my head, watching her approach the corner, feeling so sorry for her, when suddenly…

JONATHON: (bursts out of the classroom) Hey, Annie?

ANNIE: (turns around, hopeful) Yes?

JONATHON: I want to go to the dance with you.

ANNIE: (eyes light up) You do?

JONATHON: Yeah. I do.

ANNIE: Oh…well…I'll be happy to join you, then.

JONATHON: Meet me in the Entrance Hall at seven.

ANNIE: Okay!

JONATHON: Erm…bye.

ANNIE: Bye!

And, to my immense joy, Jonathon's ears went red and he turned to go the opposite way down the corridor, his pace brisk as well. Annie stood where she was, seeming transfixed with pleasure, and stayed there for several seconds, even after he was gone. When she went, her pace was slower and her head was up. I knew Jonathon had just about made her fifteen-year-old life with his approval.

"Aww," I said, resting my head on James's shoulder. "That's so sweet."

"I don't think he actually likes her, though," said James with a shrug, his arm around my waist and pulling me into him. "It's a pity date. He waited too long to say yes."

"Maybe, but I don't think that matters at all to Annie Potent," I said. "I mean, you have to have seen how she acts around him. She likes him and even one date will be enough to make her happy. And who knows?"

"I know the feeling," said James with an impish grin, giving me a little nudge with his hip.

My cheeks went pink, but I returned the nudge.

"Well, he finally said yes, didn't he? After all that time chasing after him?" I reminded him. "Sometimes…you just need time. And when you've got a persistent little bugger on your tail, you see things all wrong."

"Maybe," said James, a wicked twinkle in his eye, "but Annie and Jonathon have only known each other a year and Annie's too shy to be persistent."

I laughed aloud and threw my arms around him, giving him a big fat kiss on his mouth.

"Let's go get that homework done, then, Romeo," I said. "We've got plenty of it."

James kissed my hair and we did come to the common room to do our homework. James is actually doing his – industriously composing his Charms essay, bless him – but I've been writing in here for the whole time we were supposed to work, because it's easier than composing my own Charms essay. What can I say? My procrastination got the best of me. I'll finish the essay another time. Like tomorrow morning at breakfast. I'm an expert at writing quickly amongst breakfast dishes by this late point in the year.

I think James has finally figured out that I'm not doing my Charms essay. He wants to see what I've written. Damn, damn, damn. Rule number one of diaries – never let your boyfriend read them. I'd best hide this, or at least stop writing…

-

_Naughty, naughty, Lily. Not doing your homework. Shame on you. –J_

Heh… -L

_So is this a diary, Lily?? –J_

Maybe. –L

_So it is? –J_

Maybe.

_I think it is. –J_

Maybe.

_So it is! –J_

Maybe. –L

_Am I in it? –J_

Maybe. –L

_I'm totally in it. –J_

_Can I read it? –J_

No. –L

_At least I got something other than a maybe. –J_

You might get a kick in the groin if you try to get near this thing. –L

_Fine, fine. I'll respect your privacy. –J_

Thank you. –L

…_But I'm totally in it, right? –J_

I have the right to remain silent. –L

_Yes, I'm totally in it. –J_

Shut up. –L

--

A/N: Told you, it's fun little filler. But next chapter serves as an introduction to something bigger, as referenced in the above author's note, so it's not as filler-ish, though it is short. Just bear with me here – this is actually necessary, I swear.

But, regardless of everything, please review on your way out and I'll see you next chapter!


	63. I Smell Something Slightly Suspicious

A/N: Whew! Finals are over (hallelujah) and I can finally kick back, sit at my laptop, and work on stuff. My end-of-the-decade fic, for example, which just came back from its beta and needs my attention. And this little thing I've got going here. That could use a little work too. Heh.

So remember – this is filler, but it's filler that will introduce the next plot development we're due for next chapter. Plus…I mean…it's fun. There are Marauders involved, for goodness' sake!

Cheers!

--

May 14

**Goal Status:**

Merlin's beard, I forgot all about these! I just remembered because I was trying to open up to a new page, to write something or another that I've already forgotten, and I stumbled upon an old page in which I lamented about my pathetic state in the morning.

And from there, I remembered that one of my big goals at the beginning of the year was to actually wake up in the morning.

My word, I felt such a wave of shame as I looked back to my original goals. I'd written them with such care, feeling like a revolutionary or something, someone so keenly set on being better. I really thought this year I'd keep a tally of my goals, that I'd make sure they were going well and achieve them (for once) but I see they were kind of hopeless.

Clearly, I didn't keep a good track record – so I'm going to try and summarize my progress over the next few months goal by goal.

_Being Proper_

By this, I meant I wanted to stop eating so much, waking so late, or procrastinating like my life depended on it. I guess, in a way, I've been improving in this arena. The eating thing is kind of a bust – I eat to calm myself down and I've had plenty to rile me up this year, most notably my first date with James – but I'd like to think I'm a _little _easier to wake up in the morning. There have been days when I wake up all by myself, no help necessary. And, with Livvy's help, I haven't been behind on my homework in a long time.

_Achieve Excellent NEWT Scores_

NEWTs obviously haven't come around yet, but I think I'm on my way to doing this. All the crap homework we've been getting this year has my mind sharpened. I'm a fast worker and I usually know what I'm doing. All the NEWT practices I've been doing are a piece of cake after everything else I've been through. I really do think I'm going to do well.

_Be a Good Head Girl_

Except a couple of instances where I was late to an impromptu meeting with McGonagall, I've been doing this pretty well. I've done (most of) my patrols with James, being a good little girl and wandering the corridors on weeknights, and I've been to all the prefect meetings. I think that's about as good as anyone can ask for. I mean, I did put a stop to that April Fool's Day prank, didn't I?

_Make Peace with James Potter_

Needless to say, this has been the one thing on my list that I can say, with all confidence, has been one-hundred percent achieved.

_Ensure This Year is Spectacular_

When I wrote this goal, I meant spectacular to be fun, productive, good for me in all the ways that mattered. I meant that I wanted to have a year that made me happy. So, in a sense, I failed myself on this goal – I have had a lot of trauma that has worried and aged me, what-with Livvy's drama, my own insecurity about relationships, Russell's death – but in another sense, I achieved it in the most spiritual sense there is.

Despite all the trauma, I survived. I'm here, aren't I, writing about them?

I came into this year a little girl, hopeful and earnest and ill-prepared for the world ahead of me. But now, with a few battle-scars on my back, I'm ready to be on my own. I'm ready to work hard, lean on my friends when I need them, forge my own path forward.

So…I guess my answer is yes. This year has been spectacular. But we've still got a few more weeks left, so I guess I'll hold my full-blown reflections until then.

**5:45 PM**  
_Status_: Warm and happy

So…it's been almost two weeks since I last wrote, and I must say, after the unsteady roadblock we had after Russell's death, life is definitely back in full-swing.

That mysterious idea of movement has struck again. From a standstill, we've managed to break into a legitimate sprint as the days charge towards the dreaded NEWTs. Classes are running through their last few topics before the exams and students are starting to lock themselves into their dormitories, or plant themselves at a table in the library.

Tempers are also running extremely high, a telling sign that stress is starting to set in. Penny York – a girl I'm somewhat acquainted with – became the first to need a Calming Drought from Madam Pomfrey, after collapsing in the middle of Transfiguration, crying her eyes out and screaming that she was too stupid to take exams and she was through with pretending otherwise.

Similarly, Melinda Bratwurst, a close friend of Lissie Elmhurst, burst into tears in the middle of lunch, because she forgot to do her homework and she didn't want to anymore, she just didn't want to. Lissie, being Lissie, tried to escort her to Madam Pomfrey, but she was in too much of a state. She practically had a fit right there on the floor, in front of everyone, and we all stood there like idiots until some brain ran to fetch Madam Pomfrey to deal with it in person.

Jane Carlton, James's date to the Halloween party, also had a mental breakdown during Herbology. She lost her stack of notes to the evil Venomous Tentacula in the corner and had a right tantrum, swearing at the plant and shooting flurried, half-garbled hexes at it, as though that would solve anything. Madam Sprout had to put a Full Body Bind on her to shut her up – she was that distraught – and then coaxed the notes away from the Venomous Tentacula. She quickly restored them – and Jane – with a wave of her wand, reuniting the two and then banishing Jane to Madam Pomfrey for a Calming Drought.

And apparently, fifth years are going mad as well – Alice has reported that Leanne Renner, Marcia Greene, Vivanne Engler, Isabelle Wastlette, and Carla Dramone have all been sent to Madam Pomfrey for Calming Drought. OWLs are just as stressful as NEWTs and two years of students are going mad under the pressure, clearly.

It's even been rumored that Slughorn is having to send out for more Calming Drought, because his supply of the stuff isn't enough for the cracking students of Hogwarts. Make of _that _what you will – that's what Alice said when she told me this, smirking away in that way she has.

As for me and my friends, we've been holding up all right. Alice and Livvy have both recovered from our last group conversation in a satisfying, healing sort of way. Alice is back to her cheerful self, dividing her free-time between us and Frank, complaining copiously about the exam stress and talking a lot about sleeping for two days once it's all over.

Livvy, too, is starting to come back to normal. She's still a little washed-out, but she's make attempts to talk more, smile more. She is, of course, prone to silences in which she looks worried, miserable, but she's making active attempts to move on and that's all we can ask for. For her, the exams are almost like a life-raft, in a way – they give her something to do, some purpose to fulfill. They push out everything else going on in her brain or they wipe her out so hard that she can't think about anything. Alice has quietly suggested that she get a therapist when she leaves Hogwarts and although Livvy hasn't said anything yet, I think she will. She can't handle this alone and we certainly haven't the faintest idea how to help her. But we, too, are trying.

Me, I'm studying for the exams, but I'm also acutely aware that my brain is tired of the abuse it's been getting all year. Sometimes, I just can't focus and I have to give up, give myself a break, trust that I can do this later and everything will be okay. It's funny that I choose now to relax, when everyone else is winding themselves up, but I think I deserve it. I've already done what they're trying to do right now.

Obviously, I am with Livvy and Alice quite a lot; but lately, I've been spending an increasing amount of time with James and the Marauders. It started off as just wanting to be with James, curled up on his lap and messing around, but he and his friends are inseparable and I've now kind of become part of the group.

Studying with the Marauders is fun – they get the job done, because Remus won't let them rest until they do, but they also goof around a lot, because James and Sirius have a very limited capacity of focus. We have spells of intense concentration, but also spells of laughing about nothing, tears rolling down our cheeks, sharing something private and insane and ours.

Gradually, our distinct groups of friends are mixing – Frank, who has always been friends with the Marauders, joins us in the common room in the evenings, bringing Alice in tow, and Livvy tags along, seeking to be with me and Alice. We all end up on the floor together, we eight, our arms around each other, our legs entwining, our honest laughter sharing the same air.

We get along astonishingly well, for such different people. Sirius has taken a keen interest in Livvy – happily teasing her and harassing her, because she's a fresh(er) face in the group – and in turn, Livvy is relaxed around him, giggling genuinely and acting more like the girl I've always known. Alice, Frank, and Peter have formed a little club, always saying something awkward and laughing maniacally at the impact, drawing the curiosity of James and Sirius, who immediately start acting like children in an attempt to get in on the joke. I try to hold them back, but all James has to do is tickle me in the right spot and I'm out of the way, letting him do what he wants until I recover and start the cycle again, while Remus desperately tries to keep order.

It's practically a game now, these dynamics. We're comfortable around each other. The lines that kept us apart before have blurred and we're a tight-knit group – something I never would've believed six months ago, even if you swore on your own life. It makes me happier than I can say, to be with these people I love so much, and have them love each other better than I could've hoped.

It's surreal, but in a good way – the best way possible.

Take today for example. After classes were over, Alice, Livvy, and I sat in our favorite spots in the corner of the common room, deciding to do homework right away because Livvy had Quidditch practice later and I was slightly behind this time on my assignments. Alice, claiming exhaustion but with nothing better to do, sat around and watched us, occasionally making an arbitrary observation simply to amuse herself.

It was a typical sort of afternoon – Alice hates working, but somehow gets it all done when we're not watching – but within a half hour, we were joined by James, who plopped down next to me, kissed my cheek, and said, "I missed you."

"You saw me in Potions last period," I pointed out.

"So? I'm not allowed to miss you for the hour I've been away from you?" James rolled his eyes. "Silly."

"I swear, you're the co-dependent female in this relationship," I teased, giving him a poke in his gut. "What are you going to do over summer break?"

"Camp out in your backyard," he said promptly. "I'll bring the boys with me. We'll make a band and serenade you to sleep every night."

"I certainly hope you won't be the lead singer," I remarked dryly.

"James, have you any idea how to apply Golpalott's First Law to the Draught of Living Death?" Livvy interrupted irritably, completely ignoring our usual ridiculous banter. "I cannot for the life of me figure it out."

James considered this for a moment, seemed to declare it too much work, and then looked to the Portrait Hole, which had just opened to reveal a dark-haired someone wearing a huge grin.

"I dunno," he said. So he called, "OI! PADFOOT! You know anything about Golpalott's First Law?"

"Maybe – who wants to know?" Sirius asked, peering at the corner where we were sitting.

"Livvy wants to know," James clarified. Somewhere in the past couple of weeks, he had finally adopted Livvy's accepted nickname, instead of sticking to her full name like he had for almost seven years.

"_Really_?" Sirius bounded towards us in an almost dog-like manner, collapsing on the floor next to Livvy, looking over her shoulder at the Potions homework. "Well, I'll be fucked – Livvy _does _want to know!"

Livvy – and the rest of us – laughed and she showed him the homework. "Yeah. Can you help me?"

Sirius scratched his head, a very serious (no pun intended!) expression on his face. "Hmmm. Let me think on it for an hour and I'll get back to you."

"Thanks," she said, giving him a real smile and taking out her Charms homework instead.

Sirius beamed at her and watched as she wrote, in her small, painfully neat handwriting, her name in the corner of her parchment. There was real affection in his face as he put his arm around her shoulder and continued to observe her progress – it made me smile to see it happen.

However, within about a minute, Remus, Frank and Peter arrived in the common room and joined us, grinning as widely as Sirius.

"Frank!" At once, Alice's face lit up – she got up off the floor and practically fell on the poor guy, squeezing him tightly. He looked like he was slightly in pain, but he responded back just as strongly, holding her close and seeming blissful, despite the death grip.

"Hey, darling," he said as he released her and kissed her nose. "Love you."

"Love you too." Alice returned with a kiss on his mouth – a brief one – before pulling him back down to her spot. She settled into his lap, happy as anything, and Sirius rolled his eyes.

"This is ridiculous," he said. "Look at you non-single guys. You're turning into ninnies for your girlfriends. What terrible, guy-disrespecting behavior."

"Don't be jealous, Pads, it doesn't become you," James teased, slipping his arm around my waist and giving me a large, sloppy kiss on my cheek. "You'll get a girl someday. I know you will."

Sirius rolled his eyes again as I giggled, this time adding a sigh to the mix, and let his eye wander to Remus, who had so far been sitting away from the action, staring with the utmost concentration at something in his bag. Sirius's curious side was instantly piqued.

"Ooh, Moony, what may that be?" he inquired, crawling to where Remus was sitting. "What're you up to?"

"Studying for the Transfiguration NEWT," Remus answered steadily, flipping over a piece of parchment and swearing quietly under his breath. "I've made flashcards."

"Why in the name of all that is holy are you studying for the Transfiguration NEWT?" Sirius inquired, wrinkling his nose. "That's almost as bad as turning into a girlfriend-pleaser. Don't you have homework to do, or something like that?"

"I did my homework already," said Remus, pondering another flashcard. "Now do you mind? I'm trying to work."

"Oh, well, in that case, let me help you," said Sirius in a completely different tone – condescending, overly-helpful. "Here, I'll test you. Give me the flashcards."

Remus only now looked up from his flashcards to give Sirius an extremely stern look.

"Do you promise you're actually going to help me?" he asked. "Are you sure you're not going to maim, dismember, or harm me – or my flashcards – in any way, physical or emotional?"

"I swear on my mother's life," Sirius said solemnly.

Remus considered this, probably searching for loopholes, but the offer turned up genuine and he handed Sirius the flashcards with relative calm, though a crease remained between his eyebrows.

"Okay…" he said. "Go on, then, test me."

Sirius shuffled through the set of cards, seeming as though he was selecting the best one to test his friend with. Remus waited patiently, as did we all (except Alice, Frank, and Peter, who were talking about something we likely didn't want details on), until Sirius presently settled on a flashcard reading _multivariati_ in Remus's stately handwriting.

"Right," he said. "So what's _multivariati_, Moony?"

"Erm…" Remus bit his lip as he thought about it. "I dunno…"

"Ha! Neither do I!" Sirius cried. "And nor do I care!"

And with this, he stuffed the flashcards in his pocket and ran away from our corner, cackling away as he did.

"Sirius!" Remus hollered after him, getting up and running after him. "Get back here! I need those cards!"

"No you don't!" Sirius called back, raising heads as he sprinted around the common room, almost bumping into every piece of furniture in his way. "You don't need these cards! You're damn smart and you know it, Moony! Stop worrying so much!"

"Sirius, damnit, you promised you wouldn't harm my flashcards!" yelled Remus over the growing laughter, as Gryffindors abandoned their other activities to watch the chase. "You swore on your mother's life!"

"I hate my mother!" Sirius reminded him, making an impressive leap over an ottoman and winning some applause from the people who were using it. "I thought you knew that!"

James, Alice, Frank, Peter, Livvy and I were in tears of laughter as Remus exasperatedly cornered Sirius around a circular table, the two of them across from each other in face-off position.

"Give me my flashcards," Remus requested. "This isn't funny anymore. I need them."

"You need love and clean underwear, Moony, not these flashcards," Sirius said, waving them over his head.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Fine. You won't give them to me, game over." He pulled out his wand and, before Sirius could react, declared, "_Accio flashcards._"

Instantly, the flashcards flew out of Sirius's hand and gracefully landed in Remus's outstretched hand. His expression dark – likely out of stress and irritation – Remus returned to our corner and sat down, flipping over the _multivariati _card to figure out what it meant, no doubt. James was still snortling (snorting + chuckling) as Sirius returned to his spot beside Livvy, grinning.

"Oh, Padfoot," he said affectionately. "Nice one."

"I'm sick of all this," Sirius declared. "I'm sick of people studying, and cramming, and worrying, and being prats. You know this stuff! You do! You've spent all year learning it. Exams are meant to psych you out and you're falling for it. It's bullshit. Stop hiding in your holes of self-doubt, people! Step out of your holes!"

To prove his point, he took Livvy's Charms homework – much to her consternation – and threw it back into her bag, which he threw across the room to the staircase leading to the dormitories.

"You're a smart girl, Livvy," Sirius informed her. "C'mon now. Relax. Calm down."

"Have you been feeding him too many éclairs after hours?" I whispered in James's ear, who smirked but did not answer.

"Sirius, some of us are worried about our futures – it's better to over-prepare than under-prepare," she explained to him.

"You know what I'm worried about?" Sirius demanded.

"Finally losing all your marbles?" guessed Peter, making Alice and Frank laugh.

"I'm worried that you are all forgetting how to enjoy yourselves," Sirius said dramatically.

"Trust me, Sirius – that's one thing we're all quite well-versed in," I assured him.

"No, you're not," Sirius corrected me.

"Make your point, would you, Pads?" James inquired politely. "We're all a little confused down here, with all this wisdom and knowledge you're throwing at us."

Sirius stared blankly at his friend for about a second and a half before, without warning, he grabbed a pillow and gave Alice a hard whack in the head with it.

"Ow!" Alice complained. "Damn you, Sirius!"

"Sorry," he said matter-of-factly. "You were the closest one. But you did prove my point."

"Which was what, that you're an arse?" Alice suggested.

"No – that your souls are all dead!" Sirius responded emphatically. "If someone hits you with a pillow, the logical response is to take another pillow and hit them back, start a pillow fight! Not to swear and then go back to what you were doing! You're losing yourselves to these exams and it's making me ill."

"I think I see what you're saying, Sirius," said Frank slowly. "So you think…that we need a pillow war?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Sirius said calmly.

"I can oblige that," said Frank. "Here!"

Quick as a flash, a pillow was in Frank's hand, and it made solid contact with Sirius's head. But, far from being offended, Sirius broke into a grin and said, "There you go!"

The two of them promptly began hitting each other with pillows, making Alice groan and loudly wonder why she was dating him. But James and Peter were inspired – they both picked up pillows themselves and joined in the war, yelling and screaming and hitting each other, acting like utter children. I could only sigh as I watched, torn between giggling and disapproving.

"Look at them," I said to Alice and Livvy. "What are we supposed to do now?"

"Join them, I guess," said Alice, grinning. "C'mon, it'll be fun!"

"I really ought to do that Charms homework…" Livvy mused, reaching for her bag.

Alice, however, had other plans – she took a pillow for herself and gave Livvy a blow right in her face.

"This is war, Livs!" she said. "You'd better get a weapon before I pummel you to death."

"It's on," Livvy vowed, scrambling to get a pillow before Alice could hit her again.

"Oh, all right, then," I obliged, paying a visit to the nearest sofa to kindly request one of their cushions. "It's on!"

We three girls started hitting each other with pillows, then, yelling and screaming every bit as much as the boys. Pretty soon, when they realized we were part of the pillow revolution, their group joined us, and the eight of us were in the midst of a heated war, winded and squealing.

From studying quietly, we ended up in a pillow war, fighting for status and fighting for breath – and we didn't stop until we really couldn't breathe, forced to collapse on the ground and laugh with pure mirth.

Everything about us was connected – Livvy's head on Sirius's knee, Alice's leg on Frank's stomach, Peter's arm on one side of me and James's face on the other. The pillows were scattered in, on, and around us, worn out from their sustained abuse. We were getting strange looks from those around us, I'm sure, but we were happy in the simplest, loveliest way and that was all that mattered.

For all the madness, all the stress, all the insanity, we were together. And it felt better and sweeter than all the words I know could aptly describe.

Whether or not I'm ready, life is going to keep moving, keep ebbing and flowing, sometimes going too fast and sometimes creeping by too slow. And today, with all our bodies strewn around the floor, all of us so in sync, studying be damned, I felt ready to take life on. Every single second of it.

**7:00 PM**  
_Status_: Confused

Rewind to five minutes ago, when I went to quickly brush my hair before dinner…

JAMES: So, you ready to go?

ME: Stop being so impatient, James! Never rush a girl when she's doing her hair. Silly.

JAMES: Sorry, sorry. Didn't know we were going to a Victorian Ball – I was under the impression we were going to dinner.

ME: Well, there's no reason to turn up at dinner looking like a bird nested on my head.

JAMES: (snorts) It's okay. You look fine to me.

ME: Thanks.

JAMES: So…I needed to run something by you.

ME: Yeah?

JAMES: Yeah. Can you take over patrol for me tonight?

ME: Erm…it'll be awfully lonely, but I'm sure I could manage it. Why?

JAMES: Just…something came up and I have to take care of it.

ME: When I asked why, I meant a specific reason, not one that makes me repeat my original question.

JAMES: (chuckles) I suppose you're right.

ME: So what is it?

JAMES: Nothing really…

ME: If it's 'nothing really,' you shouldn't have a problem telling me what exactly is going on.

JAMES: Calm down, Lily. You don't need to know everything.

ME: I'm doing you a favor – I want to know why.

JAMES: I…have to see someone.

ME: Who? About what?

JAMES: (pause) Look, it's kind of complicated. Can you just take the patrol for me tonight? Without any more questions?

ME: …Fine. I'll take patrol for you.

JAMES: Thank you so much.

ME: Don't mention it.

JAMES: C'mon now, Lils, don't be like this.

ME: Like what?

JAMES: Like…this. I know it's frustrating, but trust me. Okay?

ME: Okay. I said I would.

JAMES: Right.

ME: Right.

JAMES: So…are you ready to go now?

ME: Yeah. But…erm…hang on. I'll be right down – I think I left my bag in Alice and Livvy's dormitory and I want to fetch it before I eat. Save me a seat.

JAMES: Sure. See you.

ME: See you.

In reality, I didn't leave my bag in the dormitory and James knew it. It was sitting in the corner of my room, big and obvious, but we both chose to ignore it, James slipping out of the dormitory for dinner without a glance back. What I actually wanted was a few minutes to note down this strange, strange conversation, which I can't make any sense of.

James and I have become extremely close this year. We have. We tell each other everything. I trust him as much as I trust my parents, my best friends, and I know it works vice versa. But this…asking me to take patrol alone when he knows it's our quiet time together, giving me vague and unhelpful answers when I innocently ask for specifics…this isn't like him at all.

I'm not sure what's going on – I could be blowing this out of proportion, if it is something small that doesn't need my interference – but something feels wrong about it. Something I can't quite put my finger on. Something about the way he avoided my eye when he asked me to take patrol, about how his hand went to his hair when I pressed him for detail, about how he practically begged me to let this go.

Well, tonight, I decided to let it go, but I want it noted here forevermore that I am suspicious and the next time he does something weird like this, I'm going to take a more interrogative stance.

I don't mind keeping some personal secrets for people; but secrets like this, that involve other people, these are the ones that make me nervous.

I'm going to dinner now, and I'll do the patrol, but I'm on the alert. If something's going on, I will find out about it.

Until later, then.

--

A/N: You should know this drill. You've read, so now you will review on your way out of the browser. Cheers, you lot.


	64. I Find the Source of the Stink

A/N: Some of you are slightly concerned with the little secret kept at the end of the last chapter – which was the goal all along, making me a very happy little writer. Don't worry – I fully intend to tell you about it, because it's an important development that deserves some prominence. It's obvious, but I don't think you wouldn't have thought of it until I forced it in your faces.

Oh, and one other thing – are you lot _crazy_? I am _not_ putting Livvy and Sirius together! Some of you voiced this concern and I'm like, why would I do that? They're a terrible match – Livvy is sentimental to the millionth degree, which Sirius wouldn't be able to stand. Besides, it's far too soon after Russell for Livvy to even consider a committed relationship.

Just FYI – it's totally possible for boys and girls to be good friends without getting tangled in romance. So, I mean, a Livvy/Sirius relationship is completely out of the question. Completely. I wouldn't ruin my story like that. I have better ways to ruin it.

But otherwise, here you go, the next chapter, and we're going to spend a little time on this development. Hope you like it.

_This chapter you should listen to_: What If, Safety Suit.

Cheers.

--

May 20

**7:55 PM**  
_Status_: Breathless

Merlin's beard…looking at this empty page now, after the evening I've had, the adrenaline flowing through my veins, I can honestly say that I'm not entirely sure where to begin this mad tale.

So, instead of staring stupidly at this journal, my quill hovering instead of writing, I suppose I'll just start where it really started for me – tonight, during dinner, at the Gryffindor table.

I was sitting with James, the Marauders, Alice, Frank, and Livvy, as usual – James on my one side, Alice on my other – and Sirius was telling us a funny story, making Livvy laugh and Peter snort pumpkin juice out of his nose. It was a very normal dinner scene – me and my friends, being idiots together – and I was enjoying myself thoroughly.

That is, I _was _enjoying myself thoroughly – until James cleared his throat, got up, and said, "Hey, I've got to go. Just remembered I have to do something tonight."

"Aww, damn you, Prongs," Sirius complained. "This is, like, the third night you're vanishing off like this. Very mysterious shit here."

James merely shrugged. "Not really. But hey, I'll see you lot later."

"Are you going to be back in time for patrol?" I asked, raising my eyebrow.

James considered, his cheeks going pink. "I…hope so," he said lamely. "See you later."

Despite the looks we were all giving him, he kissed my cheek briefly and left the Great Hall without a glance back, his walk brisk and slightly rushed. I watched him go with a flat, bitter, empty feeling in my stomach. Alice noticed my less-than-buoyant mood when I turned around to face the rest of them, unsure of what to say.

"Hey, don't worry about him," she said soothingly, giving my shoulder a little squeeze. "I'm sure it's not a big deal."

"Actually, I think it's a very big deal," Sirius said, frowning, his funny story already forgotten. "I wasn't kidding – this is pretty mysterious shit."

"Lily, he must've told you something," Peter reasoned. "You're his girlfriend. He tells you everything."

"That's what I thought too," I said glumly. "But I don't know anything – except that I'll probably have to patrol without him. Again."

"That's odd," Remus admitted, frowning as well. "This isn't like James. He hasn't talked to us either."

My expression (and mood) only darkened further as I took a moody sip of my pumpkin juice. Suddenly, I had lost my appetite.

"I hate that he's keeping secrets from me," I said. "It's been almost a week and he hasn't told me what's going on. It makes me nervous."

Nobody said anything to this one, all eyes on me as I wordlessly mulled over my current state of affairs. I bit my lip and stared sullenly at my dinner plate, watching it mock me quietly for all my helplessness. For what had to be the first time in living history, I had completely lost my appetite.

Whatever the nature of the secret, it was eating me up inside. I hated it. Everything had been going so well in our relationship – we were happy together, closer than best friends – and now we had this _thing_, suddenly and inexplicably, blocking our path. It made no sense to me. Why keep secrets? What was so big or small that he couldn't tell me, or any of his friends, about it?

I'd let the lurking go on a week – now, my time limit was up.

It took me about a split-second to make my decision. I put down my fork and rose from my seat, my mind completely made up.

"I'm going to follow him," I said. "I'll see you lot later."

"Good luck with that," Sirius volunteered as I sprinted out of the Great Hall, not wanting to lose any more time.

Luckily, I didn't spend too long dawdling in the Hall. I just caught sight of the tail end of James's robes disappearing down the corridor to the right of the main staircase – at once, I ran as fast as my skinny, not-quite-in-shape legs would take me, trying to keep a sizeable distance between us but not so much that I couldn't see him. Fortunately, I'm a light breather, so I didn't give myself away as he blasted forward. He kept weaving in and out of corridors I didn't know – I swore we were getting lost but James seemed to know exactly what he was doing. All I could do was trust him.

For several minutes, I let him lead the way as we went through the various passageways I was sure only James knew. However, once we got to a corridor I recognized, I decided to make my presence known, convince James to take me where he was going on his own accord instead of sneaking around.

So, with just a deep breath to calm me, I put on an extra burst of speed and tapped James firmly on his shoulder. He jumped about a foot in the air and whirled around to face me, eyes wide with surprise and horror. When he saw it was just me, with my hands on my hips and a concerned expression on my face, he regained some of his breathing, but he was still in shock.

"Lily!" he said. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"The better question is, what the hell are _you _doing here?" I countered, stung. "You can't expect to…I dunno, skulk around like this without telling me."

"I told you, don't worry about me, Lils," he said. "This has nothing to do with you."

"And that worries me!" I protested. "What on earth could this be, that you're willing to keep me and everyone who cares about you in the dark?"

James sighed, seeming to deflate before my very eyes. "It's…complicated," he said in a defeated voice. "And kind of a long story."

"I've got time," I said determinedly. "I'm not going anywhere."

"No," he said, matching my tone. "Not now."

His resolution, his hand going straight to his hair, the hard set of his mouth contrasting with the softness of his eyes – it all drove me mad, staring at him, watching him staring at me as he was. It's shitty, you know, to be standing in front of someone who knows something you don't. You feel young and betrayed, in a way, because this person doesn't trust you enough to tell you the real story – a feeling made even more potent when you consider everything you've shared for so long.

Maybe it was a combination of these factors – the desperation, the anger, the sheer confusion – that made me burst out, "Well, if you're having an affair or something, why don't you just _tell _me? Then we can, I dunno, work it out, or just break up, if that's what you want!"

At this, James's eyes nearly fell out of his face.

"_WHAT?!_" he practically shouted, surprise and horror lighting up his face from the inside out. "How could you _possibly_, in your right mind, think I would cheat on you?"

"I don't know what to think!" I said defensively, my face going red with warmth. "You're keeping secrets from me. I always thought we were better than that."

At this, James fell silent for a moment, weighing out his options.

"Well, I'd never cheat on you – never," he practically growled a few moments later. "Not even under torture."

"So…what _are _you doing?" I asked, this time softer, more reasonable.

James sighed again, already deflating like he had before, and I could see the defeat in his face. Whatever his original rationale had been for keeping me in the dark, it was fading away fast, like sand worn down by high tide.

"Okay," he said finally. "I'll tell you."

"Thanks," I said gruffly. "So where were you going?"

"I was going to…" Here, he paused once more. "You know what? Let me just take you there. It'll be easier for you to see it than have me explain it to you."

"Fine," I said. "Take me."

James nodded and swallowed thickly, as though still unsure if this was the right course of action. He didn't hold my hand as we walked, now side by side, and we didn't say anything else. It wasn't so much the silence that bothered me but what it meant – James was antsy, I knew, and while I racked my brains as hard as I could, I couldn't think of anything so serious that he tried to keep it from me. None of it made any sense. Where were we going, anyway?

We eventually turned up at the back of the seventh floor, by a tapestry and a statue. I couldn't see anything there, and I was about to open my mouth and say something, but James silenced me with a quiet nod and stared intently at the empty stretch of wall before us. He waited a few seconds and, before our very eyes, a door appeared – discreet, regal, made of dark hardwood, waiting for us.

It only occurred to me as James reached out to open the door that we were entering a legendary room – the Room of Requirement.

This, clearly, was a classified secret. And instinctively I knew it involved more people. But what…? Who…?

I stayed behind James like a frightened child as he stepped into the room, declaring us. "James Potter and Lily Evans," he said to the dimly-lit room. Only now did he suddenly reach for my hand, squeeze it, and gently lead me in.

"Welcome," a soft, calm – and extremely familiar – voice said.

But another – lower, more menacing, like chunky gravel – hissed, "Evans? What did we tell you about bringing friends, Potter?"

"Relax, Alastar," said the first voice pleasantly. "Miss Evans is perfectly trustworthy. In fact, I was wondering when she'd make her appearance at one of our little gatherings."

An explosion of murmurs went off inside the room and now I was _really _confused. But a piece of the puzzle did click in my brain by this point – I realized that the first voice was Professor Dumbledore. Professor Dumbledore! Merlin, this secret _was _huge if our Headmaster was involved with it.

"Is it all right, Professor?" James inquired. "Can I bring her in?"

"You may," Dumbledore responded serenely. He could've been inviting me to a tea party with the tone of his voice.

My heart beating rapidly, I let James bring me into the room, where, indeed, Professor Dumbledore sat, his white beard silvery in the limited light. Other men and women surrounded him, their faces in shadows, and I wondered how many of them I knew. But, at that moment, I was just plain astounded.

"Permit me to ask, Professor, but where am I?" I asked Dumbledore timidly.

"This, Miss Evans, is the Order of the Phoenix," he informed me, a serious note in his voice now. "We are an organization formed purely for the purpose of trying to thwart the efforts of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters."

Across the room, shivers ran abundant – no one liked hearing You Know Who's name out loud – but other than that, the members of the Order remained silent, watching me carefully. I merely blinked, unsure of how to react.

"Wait…so this is, like, a resistance?" I asked. "Like in World War II or something?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "I suppose you could say that," he said merrily.

"But we're a damn slight more effective," grunted the man who had spoken earlier – Alastar, Dumbledore had called him.

"We haven't done anything particularly fascinating yet, Alastar, don't give her the wrong idea," a sharp female voice remarked dryly – McGonagall. "Let us maybe catch a Death Eater or two before you sing our praises."

"I've been working on that," Alastar said. "Hence tonight's meeting."

The adults in the room began to join in this conversation, asking Alastar for any new information he might have collected, their attention shifting away from the two teenagers standing in the doorway. Professor Dumbledore gave us a wise smile and a nod, as though giving us a moment to talk before we started the meeting properly – so that's exactly what we did.

I turned to face James head-on, my brain exploding with questions to ask him. A resistance! Headed by Professor Dumbledore himself! The Order of the Phoenix, they called themselves. Madness!

So _this _was the big secret – _James was part of the resistance._

Merlin's beard. The shock was so big, it took me at least thirty seconds to compose myself and figure out what to say.

"So…you've been coming to see the Order of the Phoenix," I checked, just to confirm.

Slowly, he nodded.

"Yes."

"Well, how did you find out about it? It's not like they're advertising," I said.

"My parents," James confessed, resigned. "They're pretty heavily involved – as much as they can be, anyway – and they sent me an owl. I went to my first meeting the first night I asked you to cover me for patrol."

"And when, pray tell, were you going to let me in on this?"

James shrugged. "I dunno. Probably a short time after we left school."

"Why?" I demanded.

"Because…because I don't even know," he burst out as honestly as he ever had, hazel eyes unabashedly intense. "I'm not sure what I'm doing. I never have. The reason I came initially was because after Russell died, I needed to feel like I was doing something, like I was part of the effort to stop this from happening to other innocent people around the country. And…I dunno. It just felt too personal to let anyone in on it just yet. It's my own guilt, you know? My guilt, my problem."

"Wrong," I said severely. "Of course it's not just _your guilt, your problem_. Have you forgotten that Livvy is my best friend? That I'm also feeling guilty and stupid and helpless? That maybe I want to do something to help the cause too? I'm no stranger to grief, James – Livvy has seen to that – and you need to talk to me about these things."

"Sometimes…you just can't do that," James fired back at me. "It wasn't something I could put into words. It's just…it comes in flashes. It's my deal, not yours. I was losing control and I needed to get it back. Coming to these meetings and figuring out my priorities…I needed to do that on my own. It's not your burden."

"Of course it's my burden!" I insisted. "You've taken pains to involve yourself in every one of my personal affairs this year – you think you can get away with something this big without me?"

"I wanted you to be a part of it, but only when I was ready for you," he insisted.

"Was I ready for you when you told me you loved me?" I retorted. "Was I ready when you decided you wanted a committed relationship with me, to put away all my old feelings just because there were new ones starting to form?"

"This is entirely different!"

"No, it isn't!" I practically shouted at him. "It's exactly the same – taking a step whether or not you feel ready to! You just wanted to play the hero, didn't you? Simply slip off behind my back and do what you thought you had to do, without any regards to what I would think, how I would feel, or react?"

"Of course not," James scoffed. "I just…needed to figure things out on my own. As you so love to remind me, we have our own lives too."

"But something this big, this huge, this life-changing, and you chose _now _to be your secret moment?"

I was seriously angry now. The avalanche of anger was beginning to form, bubbling and restless and piping hot, like it used to be in the old days, when James would say something insensitive, I would pounce, and sparks would fly.

This was not something trivial. This was something enormous and I didn't take kindly to being left out of it. James is all about sharing and being together and building a trusting, honest relationship and I value the same things. How dare he assume for a second that this would end well, him hiding his involvement in the Order from me?

"Lily," he said, his tone quiet, hard, firm. "You're reading my intentions totally wrong. I never wanted to play the hero, or insinuate weakness, or anything of the sort."

"Okay, so enlighten me," I said bitterly, my hands on my hip. "What _were_ your intentions?"

"I…didn't want anything to happen to you," he confessed, his face so pink and forlorn that I knew we'd hit on the truth. "The thing with Russ…it terrified me, Lily. I'd lose my mind if anyone hurt you. I don't ever want to be without you. And if you're part of the Order, and someone on the other side finds out, you're in double danger, because you're a Muggleborn and they want you wiped off the face of the Earth. If I can keep you away from that danger, prolong the inevitable discovery, I will."

"Well, if such is the case, then you have no business joining the Order either," I fired right back. "I mean, do you think I'd take kindly if anything happened to _you_? Do you think I'd ever want to be without _you_? I mean, I knew Russell too, James, and his death terrified me just as much as it terrified you."

"I…wasn't sure if this was the right course of action for me," he told me. "I wanted to take a look, sit in on a couple of meetings, see if this was a viable option…I wanted to figure out my priorities, figure out where I wanted to go in life…I just needed some time to clear my head. That's why I've been here. I may not be sure what I want for my future, but what I do know is, I want that future to include you. And…I dunno. Keeping you in the dark just a little while longer felt like the right thing to do. I'm sorry if you think I've betrayed you, or something, but it wasn't meant to be that way."

At this – the earnestness of his words and his expression and his tone of voice – I softened, all the furious anger cooling down to practically nothing.

Stroking my cheek, he continued, "You've always had the big plans. You wanted to go into Healing, stick with your friends, maybe have a family and raise a few kids. You knew what you wanted. You had your dreams. I never had that – just a desire to cause some trouble and stay on my feet – and I didn't want to rip you away from what you've always wanted, just because this sounds 'useful' or it works for vengeance or something."

I looked into those large, lovely hazel eyes of his and kissed him gently. "Those are all very fine and good reasons for keeping secrets from me," I told him, "but they're not fine or good enough. You are not me and you cannot make my decisions for me – although you may offer your input while I ponder them. Regardless of what the consequences are, we need to make these kinds of decisions together, on the same page. Okay?"

I held my arms out and he hugged me fiercely, like I was actually considering going somewhere. "God, I love you," he said into my neck, from deep within my hair.

"I love you too," I said. "Stop forgetting that."

He released me, holding me there for just a second, his eyes suspiciously shiny; but then he kissed me, long and hard and without reserve, and I settled into him and all we were. Regardless of being a big toughie around his friends and around the school, this boy is so romantic around me – he held me so sweetly, so tenderly, and when I pulled away, he pulled me back in and kissed me again.

"So…what are we going to do about this Order thing?" I asked him when we broke the kiss for real. "The meeting's carrying on without us, it seems."

James glanced back at the room full of witches and wizards. Indeed, they were all deep in discussion, evidently bored of waiting for us to finish our conversation. Even Dumbledore couldn't spare us a twinkling glance from his position, frowning and speaking quickly to the people on his right.

"I suppose we could back out for now," he said. "I mean, they're clearly all right with the fact that you're here. We can come again next time, sit in on the conversation, listen for real. For now, let's just think about it."

"I think I want to join, though," I said quietly. "You know, with you. We could make the decision together to work with the Order after school is over."

James sighed. "Like I said, let's absorb. Think about it. The Order meets same time, same place next week, I believe. We can talk about it then."

"Okay," I agreed. "I can do that."

"But…you know, for now, we have some time before patrol," he said, taking my hand and leading me out of the meeting-spot's doorway into the corridor. "You want to…I dunno, stop in the kitchens for a snack?"

"Erm…why don't you go finish dinner?" I suggested. "I want to take care of something before we snack."

"Like what?" he asked.

Here I paused. I considered lying – saying I had homework – but James had been honest about the Order and it would be pretty hypocritical of me to be dishonest about my whereabouts right after.

So I blushed and told the truth: "I, erm, wanted to write in my diary."

"Oh, you mean the diary we were passing notes in?" James grinned widely, his face lighting up with that familiar mischief. "The one that I might be in?"

"Yeah, that one," I said, biting my lip and going redder.

"Okay, I understand," he said, his grin even wider. "You run along then, Lils, and take your time. Meet me in the Entrance Hall when you're done. I might nip in for nibbles while I'm waiting for you, though."

"All right, that's fine – nibble away," I said. "See you."

"See you."

He leaned in for another quick kiss before I scampered in the direction of my dormitory and James walked leisurely to the Great Hall. And now, here I am, in my dormitory, scribbling all of this down like a madwoman with my heart thumping away in my chest.

So I guess we were all wrong when we thought James was hiding something small, because he was hiding something big, enormous even. The Order of the Phoenix! I still can't get over the sound of that, the hefty meaning hanging off the end like an anvil of epic proportions.

The Order.

The resistance.

The future.

And we could be part of it!

Blood pounds in my ear now as I think about this possibility. Me, being in the Order. Me, out on the battlefield instead of on the sidelines, dueling Death Eaters and fighting for what I knew was right. Me, avenging Russell's cruel death in the purposeful bridge collapse. Me, doing something so big, so bold, so _dangerous_.

It's these moments, when I think about those "big" concepts – love, death, war – that I feel myself shrinking like Alice on 'Drink Me.' I suddenly become so small, so insignificant, a tiny doll against odds ten times my size.

I'm young. I don't know much. I've never killed another human being. I'm in the middle of a war and there are people out there who hate me because my parents were not like them. I'm a schoolgirl who had dreams of being a Healer, who wanted to spend her summer goofing off with her friends. I'm naïve, quite green, unaware of what the world could do to me.

These past few days, I've felt upbeat, almost invincible, like I could really overcome the vast sensations of helplessness after Russell died. But looking at the stark reality of it all, I have some ways to go still.

I _am _young. I _am _inexperienced. But then I remember that all revolutionaries start that way – and the only difference between them and me is guts.

Do I have guts? Can I step out of this bubble I've known all my life to fight a cause that could kill me in the next five minutes? Much easier said than done, that's for sure, but it's not impossible. I could still do it, if I wanted it enough. But that's where the question lies – whether or not I want it enough.

My brain is smarting and I can understand why. It's been a long day and I'm tired and this is a lot to dump on an eighteen-year-old girl's head all in one night. I long to talk to Alice about it, debate it with her like I do for everything else; however, some part of me just knows inexplicably that James doesn't really want me to talk about it with anyone. He wouldn't be happy if I confided in my best friends – or in his. This is our secret, just the two of us, and we'll share it when we're ready. But, for now, we're not.

I'd better get going. It's getting to be patrol-time and I want an hour and a half of normalcy with James, us two holding hands and being together, like we always do. And I believe it would be a fine, pro-sanity gesture if I put these new possibilities aside for the time being, and focused in on easy, pleasant things before I go to bed. I'm sure even revolutionaries had to revert to talk of Sirius sticking bon-bons up his nose when they needed a breather.

Until later, then, diary. I'm sure I'll be writing again soon enough.

--

A/N: And there you go. Big development, huh? Pretty exciting. Not perfect (my attention span has been particularly short in these first few days of vacation), but I'm sure I've given you more than enough to comment on in your soon-to-be-composed review.

Ooh, and next chapter – in contrast to all this seriousness – features an eating contest between Lily and Sirius. It also features some more thoughts on war, furthering the debate on the wisdom of joining the Order, but the eating contest is way more fun. It'll be a shorter chapter, but hell, there's an eating contest! I'm sure you can find it in your hearts to forgive me.

Ohmygosh – we only have SIX MORE CHAPTERS until the story is over! It doesn't feel like it, I know, but come on. Does it ever feel like school is going to end when you get to those last few precious days, even though you're counting down and packing your shorts for Hawaii? No, I didn't think so.

Review, review, review – and I shall see you next chapter!


	65. I Attempt to Figure Things Out

A/N: I really wanted this to be your Christmas post – you know, on Christmas Day to help you avoid those darn relatives – but it took me an extraordinarily long time to get properly into this chapter. I don't know why, because I did ultimately enjoy writing it, but there you have it. However, it's now up for your amusement and I don't think I'm going to post again until after New Year's, unless we get some kind of miracle and I write at lightning speed. But that's kind of unlikely.

So…I hope you enjoy this (I did) and please remember to review when you're done!

_This chapter you should listen to: _I'm Only Me When I'm With You, Taylor Swift.

--

May 27

**1:00 PM**  
_Status: _Giggly and full

It's days like these when I'm glad I have History of Magic right after lunch – it's a great chill-back period to write about whatever madness occupies my mind during the morning. I can slack off, write in here, without feeling guilty. History of Magic has always been a waste of time – that's why I keep it around in my course schedule.

So…the madness of _this _morning. Heh. Allow me to explain…

Earlier today – during breakfast, actually – I was sitting with our group and stuffing sausages down my throat, as is our custom, revolting James and Frank while making Alice shake her head sadly at me. However, from across the table, Sirius was doing much the same, revolting Livvy and Remus, while Peter just laughed and sipped his orange juice, unperturbed.

James, having ties to both pigs, sighed and noted, "You know, when I watched Sirius devour a meal for the first time, never did I think I would meet someone who could be his match. But it seems, on this bright sunny day at breakfast-time, I have. And it scares me."

"You know, it would be interesting to pit them against each other, in a sort of eating competition," Peter commented conversationally from over his orange juice. "They're quite well-matched."

"You know, you're right," Alice agreed, watching us critically from over her own orange juice. "I thought these same things when Lily devoured a meal in front of me for the first time."

"I think it's a brilliant idea," James said. "We ought to have an eating competition during lunch today – Lily versus Sirius, to see who can eat more in the shortest amount of time."

Only at this point did me and Sirius manage to swallow properly and clear our mouths to speak properly – and, in unison, we both shouted, "Hey! Not fair!"

"You're making me out to be a hog and I'm not," I defended myself. "I'm just…hungry. Is that such a crime?"

"Exactly, is that such a crime?" Sirius parroted, pouting.

"It is in those quantities," Frank remarked, wrinkling his nose. "I have half a mind to just leave. I can barely sit here and observe this…this mayhem."

"It's not mayhem," I informed him.

"Whatever you want to call it, it makes me want to vomit," Frank announced.

"Man up," Sirius suggested, stuffing a sausage whole into his mouth and nodding vigorously.

"An eating competition…that's positively barbaric, Peter," I said, finishing off my glass of orange juice in one sip. "I can't believe you'd consider – even hypothetically – such a thing."

"I, for one, think it's interesting," piped up James. "I mean, you're both close friends of mine, you're both capable of eating colossal amounts of food without a second thought…"

"You think I ought to challenge ickle Lily to an eating competition?" Sirius scoffed. "Please! The poor girl would lose – and lose badly at that. It's best if we quiet such fanciful ideas before they are spoken."

"Hey – Alice often calls me a whale and it takes a lot for her to say that," I pointed out. "I'm fair game for an eating competition. You know, if you ever want to indulge the fanciful idea."

Sirius cocked his head to the side, considering me mock-seriously, a wide, impish grin spreading wide across his face.

"So…you'd want to have an eating competition with me? Is that what you're saying?" he asked.

"No," I said. "I'm saying that hypothetically, if we were to have one, I would be a good opponent, because I've got an appetite when I'm stressed out. Which, right now, I am."

"I have a feeling I ought to sit with someone else during lunch today," muttered Frank.

"Deal!" Sirius decided dramatically. "Eating competition it is. You and me, Lily Evans, here, at lunch."

"And you can never have a competition without bets," James interjected. "I propose…well, for me, I'm betting ten Galleons on Sirius. I know his style better and I think it's effective."

"I can take that bet," Peter agreed, shaking James's hand. "Add ten for me too. Remus?"

"I'll take fifteen Galleons on Lily," Remus said mildly. "Just because I like an underdog. And because I'll eventually be forced to put money on this anyway."

"Way to go, Remus," Sirius approved, clapping his friend on the back. "But I would've preferred more faith in me."

"I've got ten on you, Sirius," Frank volunteered. "You're…astounding when it comes to massive food consumption."

"Thanks, Frankie boy," Sirius said, nodding respectfully, the same impish grin still lighting up his features.

"Well, me, I've got fifteen on Lily," Alice said. "I mean, I've known her forever and I _know _her bad habit will pull her through this one."

"I'd prefer not to bet, but I'm rooting for Lily," Livvy said, smiling.

Sirius, however, did not smile. He stared, hurt and open-mouthed, at Livvy, looking thunderstruck.

"You're rooting for Lily? After seeing my mad skills?" Sirius asked her. "Livs, you're breaking my heart here."

Livvy giggled. "Sorry, Sirius."

Sirius huffed. "Well, we'll see who's sorry at lunch today," he told her.

"So…how much money goes where?" I asked.

"Well, it's thirty on Sirius and thirty on Lily," said James, counting it off on his hands. "So…let's make this interesting. If Sirius wins, we three who bet on him – me, Peter, and Frank – get to split the full sixty between us. If Lily wins, the two who bet on her – Alice and Remus – get to split the full sixty between them. Sound fair?"

"Sure," said Peter, rubbing his hands together excitedly. "I can't wait to earn twenty Galleons."

"That is, if Lily loses," Remus reminded him. "Which, I mean, she might not."

"So…we're all set then?" James confirmed with everyone. "Lily and Sirius are having an eating competition, today at lunch?"

"Sounds good," Alice said cheerfully. "We can make up the plates beforehand and time it."

"Perfect." Sirius gave me a wolf smile. "You're going down, Lily Evans."

I shrugged. "Maybe not, Sirius Black."

"You will," Sirius assured me. "Wait until noon and you'll see how much."

"He'd better not win," Alice said to me in an undertone, once Sirius reverted back to regular conversation and his sausage consumption. "Those are my last ten Galleons and I'd like to make a bit of profit on this bet."

I chuckled as I polished off the last of my breakfast. "I'll do my best, Alice," I told her.

And it was this – this random conversation, this challenge, this bet – that led me to lunch this afternoon, all my friends already waiting for me, several plates of food already set up in my place. Several other students passed by with interest, wondering what the big event was – and, I mean, I don't blame them. A whole bunch of Gryffindors putting together two large, identical meals is a fairly suspicious sight by now.

"Hi, Lily," said James cheerfully when I walked in, amused by all the preparation. "Are you ready for this?"

"Yes, I suppose so," I said, smirking. "Except that I'm the slightest bit hurt that you bet on Sirius over me."

"Wasn't it you who always said that significant others don't take prevalence over best friends?" James inquired, eyes twinkling.

I stuck my tongue out at him, rolling my eyes, and said, "Well, it's your loss. You're the one about to lose money here, not me."

"All right, then – it's on." James narrowed his eyes and put on a very tough pose, but all I did was ruffle his hair and take my seat in front of the plates of food, thoroughly amused. So we were really going through with all of this!

Sirius arrived about a minute later, similarly amused, and took his seat as well, as Alice, Frank, and James bustled about ordering Remus and Peter to make up the plates. Livvy just sat around and teased Sirius, finding the whole ordeal ridiculous – which, I mean, it pretty much was. A spread that looked like breakfast and lunch combined was before each of us and Alice kept trying to add to it, insisting we'd finish it.

"No, we _need _another piece of chicken!" Alice insisted, trying to put four more drumsticks into my plate. "Twelve is not enough! Lily eats that many, like, every day!"

"Do not!" I interjected.

"Yes, Alice dear, but there are two flagons of pumpkin juice, generous helpings of steak-and-kidney pie, six sandwiches, _and _twelve pieces of chicken," Frank reminded her patiently. "I think it will do the trick."

Alice sighed dramatically. "Fine…I suppose you're right."

"So…are we good?" James asked, flitting around the table, checking both our plates. "Alice? Frank?"

"I think we're good," Frank approved.

"It'll be close, but I think so too," Alice finally allowed.

"Excellent!" chirped James. "Everyone take your places!"

Remus and Peter got up from the table and the six of them dispersed, Alice, Livvy and James watching me, Remus, Peter and Frank watching Sirius. Sirius cracked his knuckles and gave me a wolfish grin, his black eyes sparkling with mischief.

"You ready for this?" he asked me.

"Only if you are," I replied.

"Right, so the point is to try and eat as much of this as you can in the smallest amount of time," James reminded us. "When you feel like you're going to explode, wave your arms in the air like the lunatic you are and we'll take inventory. Okay?"

"We know, we know, just get on with it already," Sirius grumbled, waving a nonchalant wrist in James's face.

James made a face, clearly miffed, but let the minor insult pass. Livvy and Alice laughed, but Frank was the one to say, "Three…two…one…_go_!"

Sirius wasted no time in taking off. He opened his mouth wide and popped in an entire sandwich whole, using the chewing time to viciously break open the drumstick, preparing it for its inevitable visit to his esophagus. I must say, he was pretty masterful. Undoubtedly an experienced eater – and against anyone else, he would've been the obvious winner.

But he wasn't against just anyone else. He was against _me_.

And insane/frazzled/hopeless/confused as I am on most things, I know what I'm doing when I'm eating.

See, I've come into a really good pattern for eating a lot in a small amount of time. I've had to – Livvy doesn't approve of my stress-relieving tactics and often has to fly into my room, confiscate whatever's in my hand because it's "good for my health." So I've figured out the magical trick to binge-eating.

What you have to do is take big bites and eat as fast as you can. Don't stop, don't think. Sirius had that part down pat. But what he didn't have was the biggest tactic of all – _never drink __any__thing_ while you're eating.

I am well aware that we were given flagons of pumpkin juice to consume, and real eating competitions always have a drinking requirement, but you save those for last. Liquids ruin your chances of winning. Ask any expert and they'll tell you – or they'll lie, because they don't want you to kill yourself without supervision. Liquids fill you up the same way food does – water included – so drinking anything in an eating competition basically posts a big loser sign on your head. You will never finish, because with the dry haze in your mouth, you're going to drink more than you should and you won't be able to finish the actual food part of things – which is what counts in the long run.

And Sirius was glugging that pumpkin juice like it was going to dry out in the next five seconds.

I quietly snickered to myself as he drank, wiped his face against his sleeve aggressively, and continued forth. I hadn't taken a single sip and I was doing quite well – I decided to steal Sirius's eat-the-sandwich-and-rip-up-the-drumstick-while-you-chew technique and it was very efficient. And, if I felt like changing it up a little, I would swallow down some steak-and-kidney pie. Despite my frantic speed, I could appreciate that it tasted lovely today.

As familiar as I was with speed-eating, I relaxed into the chaotic rhythm of the competition. Weird (and insane) as it sounds, I actually do love eating this way. It makes me feel _good_. I forget everything around me – it's just me, my belly, and I, doing what we do best, fulfilling our evolutionary purpose. The competition, screams, (and in Frank's case) sounds of nausea…they all fell away. It was me and my lunch. Luckily, I got a less-than-desirable grade on my Charms paper this morning, so every time I thought about the assignment, I ate extra-fast.

A series of long, shapeless minutes later, I came back to life when I heard Alice say, "Hey, hey, Lily, stop stuffing your face! Sirius gave up!"

I brought my head back to regular level, bread crumbs and bits of pie around my mouth. I felt like a mole coming up to meet the light again – it almost hurt for a second.

"Really? We're done?" I said.

Livvy groaned and rushed forward with a napkin. "Lily, you look repulsive," she informed me.

At this, I merely belched. "Thanks, Livvy," I said.

Livvy wrinkled her nose and scuttled back to Alice, who was smirking away.

"So…erm…that was likely the most disgusting thing I've seen in my entire life, and my uncle is a surgeon who let me come to work with him," Remus announced conversationally.

James laughed. "Pretty intense, I know."

"Frank just left," Peter reported. "Couldn't take it anymore."

"Hey, nice! We scared away Alice's squeamish boyfriend!" Sirius, who had a similar scenario of food all around his mouth, grinned a chicken-and-steak-and-kidney-pie-and-sandwich smile at me and offered me a high-five. I obliged him, since we're friends, but I don't want to go into what his hand looked like.

"Hey, hey, he's not squeamish," Alice defended Frank loyally. "You guys really are disgusting. Not his fault."

"You ought to find him," Livvy suggested, taking another napkin and moving forward to dab Sirius's face. "He looked like he was going to be ill."

"My poor baby," she crooned. "Figure out the winner and tell me if I got any money. I'll see you lot in a bit."

We waved good-bye to Alice, who dashed off to find Frank, comfort him and remind him that he only knew two people this repellent – not everyone was like that! Meanwhile, James surveyed us critically, his mind already back to the competition and the thought of money.

"Hmm," he said. "This looks like it was close. I see a similar mess on each side."

"Let's take inventory," suggested Peter.

"If you expect me to touch any of that, I surely hope you're not opposed to having sick all over you," Remus mused.

James snorted. "They're still people and that's still food."

"And they should never be mixed in such a manner," Remus finished.

"If you're such a squeamish baby, you might as well join Frank and Alice," Sirius remarked with a small belch. "This is a place for real men."

"Excuse me?" Livvy and I inquired at the same time.

"With an appetite like that, Lily Evans, calling you human is pushing it," retorted Sirius.

I rolled my eyes, but Livvy sighed. "Okay," she said. "So how much is left? Help me, boys."

So Remus, Peter, James and Livvy did a lot of counting and re-counting, arguing and compromising. Sirius and I were banned from offering our input – they called it cheating – and we were forced to sit there, quiet and messy, waiting for the final result. Sirius and I did a lot of angry-glare exchanges, doing some smack-talking without the smack-talking. But Livvy caught us and made us stop.

Eventually, after much painful deliberation, the four of them made a ruling: I won by half a sandwich.

"HA!" I hollered, jumping out of my seat despite the screaming pain my stomach gave me in return for moving. "HA! I _told _you I'd win! Didn't I? Didn't I? I told you I'd win and I did. Ha! HA!"

"_Not _fair!" Sirius hollered, jumping out of his seat as well. "I drank way more pumpkin juice than she did. She didn't drink any of it and I drank half!"

"Yes, but she ate one more sandwich than you did," Livvy said, gesturing to them. "And she had an extra half a drumstick. And four spoons more pie than you did. So we figured the drumstick and pie made up for your juice and she had the extra half sandwich. So…she won. Lily won!"

Sirius sighed bitterly and looked at the battlefield before us, absorbing this knowledge in. It depressed him greatly, but he could see it for what it was – correct – and he sighed in defeat, hanging his head like a sad little pug dog.

"Fine," he said at last, reaching over the table to give me a small, crooked little hug. "Well done, Lily. You won. Somehow."

I grinned. "Thanks, Sirius. You did extremely well too."

With this, Sirius stood up, stretched himself out, and held his hand out to shake James's.

"Congratulations, then, mate," Sirius said. "You're dating a whale."

Livvy, Peter, Remus, James and I all laughed. James whacked his friend on the head, chastising him for insulting his girlfriend – who beat him – and losing him ten Galleons. Sirius pouted and left, bidding the rest of the group to come with him, except James and I. He hugged me and offered to laze around with me in the common room.

"Wait, but aren't you going to eat lunch?" I asked him, gesturing to the Gryffindor table.

James stared incredulously at me. "Are you joking? After _that _performance? I'll be lucky if I ever eat again."

I laughed (which hurt my aching stomach, but James didn't need to know that) and the two of us did go upstairs to laze around in the common room. Livvy and Sirius were there too, giggling about something or another, but we left them at it, choosing to sit away from them and giggle about something else. Then, when we found we only had five minutes left for our lunch hour, we made our way to History of Magic together, James leading me around like a little old lady because I had a stomach ache and he insisted I don't "over-exert" myself. I kept calling him a fool but he didn't listen to me. He rarely ever did in situations like these.

And now I'm in History of Magic, the bell is about to ring, and I want to burst out laughing all over again.

Merlin's beard. An eating competition. My mother is going to murder me when she finds out.

**6:15 PM**  
_Status_: Surreal

Tonight is yet another evening in the common room, collapsed over a chair in the corner, trying to study despite all of Sirius's loud complaints, my books and notes open to various pages, parchment spilling out of every corner. Today is the twenty-seventh of May and the exams begin on the third of June, leaving me only a week to prepare. The frenzy is beginning – we aren't learning anything new in class anymore, just going over common NEWT exam topics – and I don't even want to think about life beyond the exams.

I'm currently caught in that horrible dilemma where you want the exams to come and go and let you be, but you also want to stray far away from them and what they mean for you. It's scary and makes you feel like the ground under your feet has inverted and flipped upside down. And when you're me, that's not a happy place to be in.

We're all buckling down a little bit, trying to study, trying to take control of the exam situation. Livvy has been sucked deep into the vortex – she's okay in the mornings and afternoons, but she's hunched over her books the remainder of the evening, talking to no one, not even Sirius. Even Alice concentrates sometimes, sucking on the feather of her quill as she pondered a question and snapping at anyone who accidentally distracted her.

The Marauders are having a harder time with it – Remus is the only one who dutifully studies, while Peter bombards him with questions, Sirius whines, and James (already bored of them all) slips over to be with me. But I'm usually pretty good about making James study with me, even though his claim that he "already knows this crap" is not far from the truth.

The air is quiet now – Livvy, Alice and Remus are reading, Peter and Sirius have given up on studying and are currently working on squat, I'm writing in here – but a few minutes ago, it wasn't so peaceful. That's why I'm here – I was studying before, but now I can't think about anything else. I quite literally _need _to write, get it off my chest.

With all this _stuff _going on around me – the NEWTs, and my friends, and my being on the brink of graduating – I think I'm going to go mad if I don't calm myself down.

Allow me to explain.

About a half hour ago, I decided to go to my dormitory and fetch my NEWT preparation book. I'd found it in Hogsmeade the last time we went and the witch who sold it to me swore it would be a great resource – and it's actually extremely good. I had Professor McGonagall check it over for me and confirm and it's been an invaluable help in my studying. My routine with it is to study on my own for a while, cram the facts in the way I've known for seven years, then go back to the NEWT book – I named it Paul – and just review.

So it was time to take a look at Paul and I told James I was going up to fetch him. He volunteered to come with me – at the time I didn't know why – and I told my friends I'd be back shortly. Then the two of us walked the familiar route to our dormitories. James waited until we were within a few meters of my portrait.

"Hey, Lils," he said softly.

"Yeah?" I was rather taken aback by his tone, mentally running through a list of possible causes at lightning speed.

"Tonight is another Order meeting," he said, his face deadly serious but his tone still petal-soft. "We'd have to go directly after dinner. Have you thought at all about it?"

I fell silent. As a matter of fact, I had thought about it – despite my insanely busy schedule, I'd thought about it a lot. It would hit me in the most random places: in the corridor, attempting to jostle through the bustling crowd, speculating whether or not all these kids would survive the war; in Transfiguration, when we reviewed something I'd completely forgotten about and wondering if, had he hadn't died, Russell would've known this; in the afternoons, sitting with Livvy and letting her rest on my shoulder, terribly depressed, and pondering bravery.

Some days, the idea of joining the Order was magical. I'd be helping all of the United Kingdom, saving Muggles and wizards alike from the danger of You-Know-Who. I'd be a radical. I'd be part of the revolution. I'd be doing something worthwhile, fighting for a cause I believed in, avenging Russell's death in some small way. It was a very possible future, so close I could taste it. I had the means. I could be so much bigger than I'd ever dreamed, finally able to overcome these vast feelings of helplessness.

But, on other days, the idea of joining the Order was terrifying. These were trained, seasoned adults who knew so much more than I did. They had a kind of knowledge and wisdom that I never could – they were quick with their wits, able to duel and save their own lives and trick their opponent without knowing them. I was book-smart – I could recall spells and charms – but using them practically, on command, was a skill I didn't have, and it was a skill I needed if I wanted to survive. I was literally putting my life on the line here and I was young. I didn't know enough. I couldn't be useful to the Order.

All week, I've flipped and flopped, wanting to join and then not. But every time I considered either possibility, the reason I was even considering this always socked me in the gut, took the wind out of me.

One of the biggest reasons I wanted to fight the Death Eaters was for Livvy and Russell. I knew Russell, and liked him, but he was the world to Livvy. Their relationship was enduring a few bumps, as all relationships do, but their chance to overcome the bumps and be together was cruelly taken away that day on the bridge. He died, left this world, and shattered my best friend.

Every minute I devote my life to thinking about the war and the resistance, I think of him – what he won't get to do, how shaken Livvy still is and probably always will be. If it weren't for Russell, I think I could've happily and ignorantly lived my life away from the war, maybe looking at it in the newspaper and promptly forgetting about it, too busy with other things. But the thing with Russell did happen and I have to choose my path in life accordingly.

So, looking James right in the face, I took a breath and said, "Yes, I've thought a lot about the Order and I've decided…let's try. Let's attend the meetings and be serious about it. I'm not sure about you, but I know I want to have a go. I can't think of anything else that I could do, anything better."

James sighed. He didn't seem the slightest bit surprised.

"Yeah," he said. "I figured you'd say something like that."

"You did?"

He nodded. "I did. You're an incredibly loyal person, Lils, whether or not you see it, and I knew you'd choose to do whatever you think would benefit your friends."

"Well, what about you?" I asked though my cheeks still glowed with his compliment. "What do you want to do?"

He sighed again, rumpling his hair. "Erm…like we said before, I don't want us to go our separate ways, or drift apart. Whatever we decide in regards to the Order, I want us to do it together."

"So you want to do it with me?" I could feel the spark of wild happiness beginning to light somewhere deep in my gut.

"Or…"

And it was here I could feel the shift in conversation. This was why he had followed me out of the common room and started this conversation with me, in the corridor so close to my dormitory.

His voice was extremely gentle, his hand still rumpling his hair, and he said, "Or we could both…not do it at all."

The spark I'd felt instantly went out, cooling down to a pile of ashes. "What?"

"You heard me." Now his voice was earnest, willing me to believe it. "Really, Lil, we could just opt out. I mean, the Order is not an obligation – no one is going to get upset if you don't join. And we could still be together, still go out and find work and figure things out. This isn't the end-all, be-all. We could decide, maybe a year or two from now, that maybe we'd like to take on a little work for the order – but it's not set in stone. We don't have to make this decision if we don't want to!"

"But I don't understand," I said. "You were there when Dumbledore told us about Russ. You were there when Livvy completely fell apart over it. How can you suddenly turn your back on what's going on right in front of us? How can you look the effects of evil right in their faces and still choose to walk away?"

"In the big picture, you're right, that would be terrible," James acknowledged. "But look at the smaller picture too. Look at what's going on right now. We've got our exams coming up in a week. We have that school dance afterwards. This summer, your sister is getting married. Our day-to-day lives are just as important as our big-picture lives – your friends, your family, they still need you. We don't have to join the Order right now. Let's…I dunno, figure out those kinds of things. Maybe you want to get married one day. It's hard to host a lovely white wedding when there are Death Eaters prowling around, trying to snatch you away."

This was a valid point as well, I realized, as I absorbed these words and tried to make some sort of sense out of them. I didn't have to be a revolutionary just yet. Maybe I _could _wait. Maybe I _could _look around at other jobs, find flats with Alice and Livvy, see Petunia off properly like a good sister should. No one said I had to join right here, right now, or stay away forever.

Actually, the first thing I felt when I heard James offer me this option was relief. My doubts were legitimate and maybe more time would be the cure. Maybe everything could still be okay somehow. A balloon of some strong, unnamable emotion swelled in my chest.

"So…you're saying we shouldn't go to the meeting tonight," I said.

James nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying. And it's not like I'm discouraging you from joining at all. It's just…it's a scary world out there, you know? What you want to do is admirable, but it's your real life you're gambling here. And I'd never ever want you to…you know…"

The unspoken words died before they left his lips and bizarrely, I found myself smiling at him, smiling like I was going to burst out laughing any second.

"Well, I…you know…think you're sweet and wonderful and I'm not going to let some stinking Death Eater take you away from me," I said, throwing my arms around him and hugging him tightly. "So, okay, we'll wait a while. But tonight, I just want to be with you."

Grinning, James kissed my cheek and said, "That sounds good." Then he kissed me on the mouth and held me so close we could've merged together, him and me. And as we kissed lusciously in the middle of that little corridor, I found myself feeling quite surreal.

I had a boyfriend – a hilarious, loyal boyfriend who loves me and also used to be my worst enemy – and I had prospects in the resistance and I had a week until my NEWT exams. How can a dance, exams, and an anti-Death Eater revolution live side-by-side in one girl's life? I felt so full, like I was drowning under the weight of where I was and where I could be. The "rest of my life" was coming up so fast, like a train looming in the distance, and I was afraid of being pinned underneath.

It's a frantic, terrifying feeling, growing up, and in all the big ways I resist it. But I guess growing up isn't found in big, giant leaps – it's found in the little moments, like daring to say you're sorry, or not giving in to your impulse to cry, or telling someone exactly how much they mean to you.

I suppose I'd best be off – it's about time for dinner and James and I decided to force a couple of other prefects to take over for us tonight. We're going to spend the entire night together – I'm sleeping over in his dormitory this time – and I'm looking forward to it. I really am.

Until later, then.

--

A/N: Right, so a bit of a decision has been reached on the Order thing. In my outline, discussion on the matter comes up again, but I may or may not include it. I mean, I don't want to beat the plot device to death – that would be annoying. So we shall have to see.

Next chapter is going to be kind of a "NEWT Chronicles" like the Halloween and Valentine's Day Chronicles. It's a nice, full chapter though. In case you hadn't noticed, Lily hasn't exactly told Alice and Livvy about the whole Order thing – that will be addressed next chapter, as well as something really funny inspired from my real life. Chapter after is the dance, which you should be _really _excited about, because it's pretty much a fluff-fest in all the ways that matter.

This story is so damn close to being done! It's insane! Please remember to review on your way out, enjoy the start of 2010 (tune in to my profile on January 1 for my New Year fic) and you'll hear from me again in the new year. Cheers!


	66. The NEWT Chronicles

A/N: I'm on-task and done early – so you get this chapter before midnight (in central time, anyway). Yay!

So as this story draws to a close, there are whisperers asking me to do a sequel. Well, sorry to say it, but no way. When I write a multi-chaptered fic, I swear it is like giving birth. You build and build and build and then finally, this collective bundle of all your hard work comes out and you realize how bloody exhausted you are. You swear you will never go through childbirth again. Maybe you will another day, in a different time and place with different subject matter, but certainly not any time soon. Not after all this.

So I'm sorry if it bums you out, but this mama is tired and quite done. No sequel. But honestly, with the way the last chapter goes, I don't think you particularly need anything more. It felt right to leave off there – and that's not just my laziness talking. Trust me; you'll see when we get there.

Anyway…hope you all are having a lovely start to the year and here's your last chapter of 2009 – and your fourth-to-last chapter overall. Cheers!

--

_I would like to take this moment __to interrupt my regularly-scheduled diary ranting in order to bring you…_

**THE NEWT EXAM CHRONICLES**

…_because this is all anybody in my year cares about at Hogwarts right now, in light of the upcoming exams that determine our future._

--

June 2

**5:00 AM**  
I woke up with a jolt and realized that my NEWTs start tomorrow.

My NEWTs start tomorrow. Oh my word. Tomorrow as in twenty-four hours from now?

I want to leap back under my covers and hide there for the rest of my life, safe and warm, away from this place where everyone judges me. I can feel myself reverting to childhood, wanting to be held and fed chocolate by the mouthful. This is not a good situation.

**12:00 PM  
**I've made it to lunch without too much incident. Today, we did some last second review in my morning classes and then the teachers made us stop. We're being told to be calm, cool, collected. We know this. We've studied material all year at a vigorous pace (I can vouch for that one). We're going to be fine.

What do they know? They took their NEWTs before our parents were born. I refuse to calm down. I passed insane about nine thirty this morning.

**9:00 PM  
**I'm going mad. I'm losing my mind. The NEWTs start in such a limited number of hours that I don't even want to count them. I'm not ready for this, I'm not ready for this, I'm not ready for this. There's no way I can take these exams tomorrow. I am too young to contemplate the rest of my life. No, I'm not going to do this. I'm too stupid. Just let me drop out of school, work as a mime, and be done with it. I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this. Oh please, dear Merlin, save my sorry arse. I'm not ready for this.

I think I'm going to have myself a good cry. I don't want to do this. Not at all. I think I'm going to find James. I need a cuddle and I need it now, or I swear I'm going to fall apart. He's under the impression that I'm fine. Obviously, I'm not.

**9:45 PM**  
James keeps telling me to sleep, get my rest. He's already snoring away beside me on the floor of my dormitory. He doesn't know I'm writing by candle-light. If he did, I think he'd be upset. So for him, I'll sleep. Or, at least, I'll try.

**11:00 PM**  
That's it. I'm going to Alice's dormitory, stealing some of her sleeping potion, and having just enough to knock me out for the rest of the night. Otherwise, I might have another nightmare where I failed all my exams and was forced to actually become a mime. And such nightmares are not conducive to a sane, exam-ready Lily.

Wish me luck.

June 3

**4:00 PM  
**Well…Day One of NEWTs is officially over now.

Because of the length of the exams, we are supposed to take three half-days to finish them all up. Like with the OWLs, the House tables in the Great Hall were replaced by rows of desks. Unfortunately, though, we were forced to sit in alphabetical order, meaning we were separated. Only Remus and Frank got to sit together because of their last names, as well as Alice and Peter. The rest of us were all over the place.

Today, I had the written and practical Transfiguration and Charms exams. Tomorrow, I have written and practical Potions, History of Magic and Runes. On the last day, I have written and practical Herbology and Astronomy. Then that's it, I'm done. Exams are over.

Today's batch was the hardest, but surprisingly, I think I did okay. I've been a mix of bloody procrastinator and obsessive hard-worker this year, but somehow, I retained most of what I learned and I managed to show it quite well on the exams. I only really screwed up twice. I was supposed to turn a piece of cheese into a squirrel, but my cheese turned brown, sprouted a tail, and refused to go the rest of the way. And when I was supposed to make my plastic flamingo do the salsa, mine was a little enthusiastic and accidentally kicked my examiner in the face. But otherwise, I don't think I did half bad.

Everyone else seemed to do all right as well. Alice's carrot, which was supposed to turn crystalline, accidentally exploded, and Peter's cheese, which was supposed to become a squirrel like mine, started giving off a smell like fried chicken, which was a little worrisome. But on the whole, there were few complaints. We were done by twelve, got to eat lunch with the rest of the school, and then laze around in the sunshine the rest of the day.

If this is a precedent for the rest of my exams, I think I'm going to be okay. I shouldn't have to drop out of school and become a mime. I'm not stupid – not in the obvious ways, anyway. I'm actually feeling quite good.

Whenever I say that, James keeps laughing at me. Calls me a silly goose for making such a fuss earlier. Well, I had to do that! My mum has a theory that being nervous before an exam keeps your mind sharp. Although I've never understood this – my brain seems to turn into mush under pressure – I used it defiantly as my excuse. But James kept laughing. The nerve of that boy…

June 4

**9:00 PM**  
So it's the second-to-last day of exams – Potions, History, and Runes went okay, it was just History that screwed me over for all the days that I failed to pay attention – and in early celebration of the end, Sirius decided to have a bonfire.

The boys cleared out James's dormitory and made sure Napoleon was in a magically-induced slumber in the bathroom, safe and comfortable in his little cat bed. Then, in the middle of the floor, Sirius set up a large, crackling fire on logs he promised wouldn't mess up the floor. We were all sitting around it, Frank on Alice's lap, James on my lap, Sirius on Remus's lap, Livvy and Peter sitting together and smirking at all of us. And the conversation fueled itself, like the fire before us, lazily carrying from one of us to the other.

Eventually, though, as we discussed pizza – everyone loved it except James, who couldn't stand it for some reason – Sirius broke the languid atmosphere with a sudden shriek.

"Merlin's beard, Sirius, do you mind giving us warning before making noises like that?" Livvy requested, her eyes squeezed shut and her hands on her ears, her signature pose when Alice does the same thing. "Ouch!"

But Sirius ignored her, staring at Remus's arm, his eyes as wide as coins. Remus, however was just as clueless as the rest of us.

"What? What? What's going on?" asked Remus.

"Your…your arm," Sirius stuttered, breathless. "It's the smoothest, most wonderful arm I've felt in my entire life."

"What the hell?" Remus wrinkled his nose in confusion. "Are you high?"

"No, no, I'm not joking," said Sirius, waving Remus's arm around like a trophy. "Come here and touch it! Touch Remus's arm! It's so _soft_ – like a baby's bum!"

"My skin reminds you of a baby's bum?" Remus arched an irritated eyebrow.

Sirius stuffed Remus's arm into his cheek, rubbing his face all over his friend, utterly delighted. "Oh, Remus, you selfish bastard. Why didn't you ever tell us you had such amazing skin?"

"Just to smite you, Sirius," said Remus with a roll of his eyes. "You're being ridiculous."

It turned out, though, that Sirius wasn't talking through his hat for once. Slowly, he coaxed us all into touching Remus's arm and he was right – Remus's skin was incredibly smooth, like velvet but much, much better. Soon enough, all seven of us were gathered around Remus, squabbling to get an inch of Remus's arm to stroke, oohing and aahing like it really was a spectacle, the bonfire completely forgotten.

Remus thought we were being idiots – he told us so several times and attempted fruitlessly to shake us off of his limbs (we discovered his legs are just as soft as his arms and they're so refreshingly hairless!) – but none of us wanted to keep away from him. He felt too good.

And it's moments like these – moments like discovering Remus has soft skin and watching Sirius beg and plead to sleep beside his friend (in a totally non-awkward way) to keep feeling up his arm – that remind me how much I have, how much I've gained this year.

I love my friends and I wouldn't give them up for anything in the world. I really, really wouldn't.

June 5

**7:00 AM  
**Oh. My. Word.

Last day of exams today. The very last. I spent all year fearing them, dreading them, whining about them, and now they're almost done. Just one more morning and I'm free! What a strange, liberating thought. It's been a long time since I lived in a world where there were no exams to fear.

Meanwhile, I've got some great plans for this afternoon. Alice declared last night, after our bonfire, that she needed some girl time away from Frank and the Marauders. She reckoned we spent too much time with them. She wanted to talk about the dance, and make-up, and dresses, and whether or not she should wear a bra that night. She was sick of the musty smell that always hangs around males and all the talk of Quidditch. (Personally, I agree with the last one. With the Quidditch final being on the seventh, in two days, James either talks about Quidditch or practices. The team – and Livvy – are ready to kill him.)

So today, Alice, Livvy and I are going to do a little skinny-dipping in the Black Lake.

Shocking as it sounds, skinny-dipping is not that uncommon. In fact, a lot of girls in our year want to go today. Many of them are planning to set up hexes and curses for any guys that attempt to come near us – we are no exception. It's kind of a tradition, after the big exams, to sit around in the lake, talking and laughing and being girls. The boys usually sit around the Quidditch pitch until Madam Hooch chases them away with Beater's bats.

I told James about it and he said Sirius reckoned the same thing. He wanted a Marauder's day to run around the grounds and harass tired exam-takers. I chuckled – it was a very Sirius-like thing to want – and we figured it would be a good thing to get some space. But James made me promise to spend the evening with him. I've said it before and I'll say it again – I really do think he's the clingy girl in this relationship.

I'd better get running. Got to get ready, have breakfast, and turn up for the first exam. Alice, Livvy, and the boys will be waiting. I wish myself luck.

**10:00 AM**  
About to do written Herbology. The animals they wanted us to work with were too frisky to wait until the second exam period, so we had to do the practical part first. For me, though, it was kind of a disaster.

We had to do something with a bowtruckle and I accidentally snapped mine in half. Don't ask me how I did that. But anyway, he got quite angry with me and swiped my arm, making three extremely deep cuts that hurt like hell. The examiner had to fight not to laugh and took care of my injuries. I'm pretty sure she failed me on that one.

The other major failure I had was far too painful to describe in words – it involved the evil, possessed Venomous Tentacula from the greenhouses, enormous toadstools, and a chunk of my hair.

**5:00 PM**  
Skinny-dipping was an enormous success. Lissie Elmhurst – a prude by almost all standards – put every curse known to wizard-kind around the lake as a precaution against guys. It was like having our own private pool. Fifth and seventh-year girls sorted themselves into their cliques, picked a spot to tread water, and we mostly kept to our little groups. Alice thought it very funny to swim to Lissie's group every so often and flash them, making them squeal and turn bright red. Nothing Livvy or I said deterred her and we had to admit, it was pretty funny.

Once we were pruny enough to revolt Alice, we three stepped out of the lake and put on our clothes. I wanted to take a shower and wash my hair. I was on my way to my dormitory, exhilarated and happy and wet, when I found James on his way in as well.

"Hey," he said, grinning.

"Hey," I said. He put his arms out to hug me, but I stopped him and said, "I'm disgusting. The water in the lake is not exactly human-friendly. There _is _a large underwater community beneath us after all."

"And they were okay with an army of naked girls?" James found this very funny.

"They stick nearer to the bottom," I explained. "Well, except the Giant Squid – but he's harmless. He got a lot of girls touching him and tickling him today."

"A Hogwarts guy's fantasy," he remarked with a smirk.

"I know," I said, smiling too. "So…hey. I've got a question."

"Shoot," said James lazily.

"I was just wondering…do you ever plan on telling the Marauders about the Order?"

I made sure my tone was hesitant and as innocent as I could possibly get it – and I was glad I did, because at once, James's face changed, his relaxed contentedness turning into nervousness, even guilt.

In truth, I'd thought a lot more about the Order, despite the exams going on around me. I itched to discuss it with Alice and Livvy, get their thoughts on the matter, but I knew James would get upset if I did so without his okay. So I let the bomb drop, quietly and privately, in the corridor, and watched as he pondered the question, brow furrowed in concentration.

"Honestly, I don't know," he said at last. "I'm not sure how to say it."

"It's not difficult," I said. "Just…sit them down and say it like it is. I know your friends – they wouldn't want it any other way."

He sighed, fidgeting a little. "I was uncomfortable enough telling you. Telling other people…"

"These are your _friends_, not other people," I reminded him. "And what is there to be uncomfortable about? They will want to be in it with you. They will want a chance to make their own decisions."

"If I tell them, they'll want to do it too," he said. "They're like you, loyal. And…Merlin, Lily, it's the same argument I gave you – if anything happens to any of you, I'd lose my mind. This is war, you know. I can't say if we'll all make it out alive."

My blood chilled at the thought of losing another friend – another member of our little gang – but I forced myself to stay calm, stay critical.

"Look, you're not the only one afraid of death," I said. "If anything happened to any of you, I'd lose my mind too, the same as you. But that doesn't mean you take away our choice. You need to talk to your friends. Let them know how you feel. They will want to listen."

I took his hand and squeezed it tight. "We talked about this together, openly and honestly, before we even thought about making a decision. Your friends will do the same. Why do you doubt that?"

James sighed again, squeezing my hand back.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Everything about this…sometimes, I wish my parents had never even told me about the Order. It's almost too much to think about."

"But they told you," I said gently. "They gave you the choice. Now stop keeping secrets and let's tell our friends tonight, all right? I hate having this huge decision sitting on my head without Alice and Livvy to talk to. And I know you must be feeling the same way."

He paused, thinking this one over, then said, "You're right, Lils. I'm being stupid."

"You're not being stupid," I said, kissing his cheek. "Just annoyingly over-protective. There's a difference."

"I really don't know what I'm doing," he told me.

"Who the hell does?" I snorted. "Now, I need to go and shower. Then we are going to have an éclair feast in the kitchens before dinner. Then, after dinner, we are both going to talk to our friends about the Order. How does that sound?"

Only now did James's old smile make a spectacular return.

"It sounds brilliant," he said. "Go get cleaned up, then. Shall I wait in my dormitory and you can knock on my door?"

"Okay," I said. "See you."

"See you."

We hugged – gingerly, because I smelled like lake and squid – and then I retired to my dormitory, where I am now. I still haven't showered, but I figured writing about all this mattered more at present. I'm going to talk to the girls tonight. Preferably, we would celebrate the end of exams, maybe discuss our dresses for the dance (which is in just three more days!), but these are things that need to be said. I need my friends on board with this.

Anyway, I'd better shower. Poor James is still waiting for me and I do want to sit with him, exist in a state of perfect harmony and lightness, before I plunge into the serious decisions I'll have to make from here on out.

It's been a strange day. Exams, skinny-dipping; now promises of éclairs and discussing membership in the Order with Alice and Livvy. Normal teenage-girl-friendly activities against a backdrop of adulthood. It's kind of insane – and I'm not sure if it's in a good way.

**9:00 PM**  
It's an age-old lesson that times of conflict are the times when you really find out who you are. I'd heard it, and believed it, but tonight I got the real impact of it all, the reason the lesson had filtered down through centuries to reach my ears today.

Crisis _does _show you who you really are – and tonight, I got to know who my friends really were.

I sat Alice and Livvy down after dinner in my dormitory and, without any beating around the bush, I told them everything. I told them about the night I followed James to the meeting and made him explain the situation. I told them about our subsequent discussions, the points we brought for and against joining the Order, and I told them about Dumbledore heading it. I talked for ten full minutes to pin-drop silence, before Alice and Livvy started to speak.

Although I'd been dying to tell them about the Order and debate about the solidness of my decision, I'd been a little wary. I knew bringing up Death Eaters and murder would remind us of Russell and Livvy was still so fragile on that matter. And I wasn't sure how the news would go over, how my friends would take it.

As it turns out, though, they handled it pretty well.

At first, they were freaked out and understandably so. Alice's eyes went wide like coins, shocked and confused, and she bombarded me with a million questions, most of which had already been answered in my initial account. Livvy's eyes filled with tears and she cried for most of the interrogation, shaking and sobbing without pause.

But, as we continued to talk about it, examine all facets of the decision at hand, Livvy's eyes dried and Alice calmed down. I could feel the energy level changing between us. Livvy, tired and depressed, said she wanted to join, but she wasn't sure if she'd actually follow through. She was drained, physically and emotionally, and we all knew without saying that she probably wasn't strong enough to do this. She had lost so much, she had nothing else to give. She needed to figure out her own priorities before she made another commitment. Alice, on the other hand, was full of the revolutionary fire that had almost consumed me, and swore to help end the madness and join the resistance.

I didn't know what kind of reaction to expect from sparkly Alice or emotional Livvy and they both surprised me. Livvy, the one I always thought was solid, melted and refused to take a side. Alice, the one I always thought was unpredictable, was committed one hundred percent to the cause. Alice was the warrior, Livvy was the housewife. When we really came down to it, we are not always the people we think we are.

The choice is out in the open now. I did what I had to do and confided in the people I trusted. Tonight was simply a chance to break barriers, bring up the topic, and nothing has been decided yet; but instinctively, I know Alice will do it with me and Livvy won't. And I really wouldn't have been able to predict that before we talked.

My chest is fluttering with something that feels like hope. We're growing up, we really are. There's no more time to play around. We are becoming the people we are going to be for the rest of our lives, and thinking about all of us – me, the girls, the boys – that familiar push-and-pull of moving forward nags at me.

I'm going to have an early night tonight in James's dormitory. We're probably going to talk about our friends, the end of exams, what we're doing about the dance, reminding each other to check in with the prefects in the morning about deliveries. But I know these things we talk about now will be miles away from what we talk about in a week, in a month, in a year. It's like the end of an era.

I'm a strange and muddled girl tonight. I'm sure I'll outrun these thoughts with the promised flurry of activity in the days to come, but for now, they seem to catch up to me, pin me to the ground and seep into me, every part of me. I don't quite know what it means just yet.

Until later, then, diary. I'm sure you'll hear from me again very soon.

--

A/N: Okay…so the NEWT Chronicles weren't completely about the NEWTs, but I couldn't think of any other way to do it. And I feel like it worked out okay anyway, so pretend with me and let's say it did.

Next post is in 2010 – crazy, isn't it? Well, have a great night – I know I will be – and here's to a decade better than this one.

Cheers.


	67. I Make My Final Memories

A/N: Back to school now. Blegh. Updates may be a little slow, but we're almost done here and you can just savor the end of the story a bit more.

In the New Year excitement, I forgot to prep you for this chapter in the last author's note – and I'm kicking myself for it, because this is a pretty huge (and I mean gigantic), intense, cutesy, fluff-tastic chapter that I think you are going to have a ball with. For real.

I've been actually very excited to write this chapter, though. I've been waiting a long time. It is, as you may or may not have remembered, the dance. It's loads of fun and the ending features a special little fluff-nugget that you should (hopefully – fingers crossed) enjoy.

I hope you like this chapter. I really, really do. Cheers!

_This chapter you should listen to_: She's Got You High, Mumm-ra; Sweet Disposition, Temper Trap; You and Me, Lifehouse; New Heights, A Fine Frenzy; You Picked Me, A Fine Frenzy; Reasons to Love You, Meiko; Love Letters, Atonement movie soundtrack; Quelqu'un m'a dit, Carla Bruni (no idea what it means, but it's beautiful).

--

June 8

**4:00 PM**  
_Status_: Cheerful

Well…it's here. Today, June 8, the day of the first Hogwarts dance in pretty much forever, is here. My word, it's been a mad ride to get to this point.

Here, I now present a not-so-brief overview of the past three days.

_Freedom_

You know, for the seventy-two hours (plus some if you want to be mathematically correct) preceding this evening, I've gone from stressed-out-student-with-a-million-and-five-things-to-do-and-worry-about to…free. Absolutely free.

I can't even begin to describe how strange it is to wake up whenever I want, mill around the grounds with anyone I want and talk about whatever I want. I've been so used to having a schedule, going to class and worrying about NEWTs that I feel almost lost, being able to do what I want. For the entirety of the first day, I was like a baffled little ghost, wandering around and wondering what to do.

I'm getting the hang of it now, getting in the routine of calming my poor, over-heated brain, but my word. Freedom is such a strange, strange thing. I think I'm going to go mad with the beauty of it this summer. I'd better find something to do – and fast.

_Quidditch_

The Quidditch final took place yesterday. I know I haven't talked much about it in this diary, but there's a perfectly good reason for it – it's a couple of inches taller than me and goes by the name of James Potter.

I swear, that boy has driven us all up the wall.

Being Quidditch captain and in the final by the skin of his teeth in that match before Easter, James has reached fanatic levels of captaining. He's insane. He keeps herding his team out to the pitch for last-second practices and flips if he finds the other team – Ravenclaw – out there practicing instead. He's been making the Gryffindor team do about a thousand different sets of exercises – running, cardio, reflex, quick-thinking, even some relaxation exercises where they must "visualize success" – and they were ready to kill him. They really were.

However, fortunately, these exercises seemed to do them well because Gryffindor played extremely well. Even I could tell without Alice screaming it in my ear. They could do no wrong – everyone was at the top of their game and although Ravenclaw put up a valiant fight, they were no match. We won by a landslide and scored the Quidditch Cup.

James was beside himself with joy as he and the players lifted that thing in the air. Professor McGonagall could be spotted showing an outrageously honest/human display of joy at the victory, telling everyone she always knew the team would be great. Livvy waited until she was off the field, away from the noise of our spontaneous victory party, to cry her eyes out and dedicate a part of the Cup to Russell, who wanted it as much as she did.

But, as Alice pointed out, he would've wanted Livvy to be happy, be excited that the team won, and with that we managed to coax her back to the party, where we left her in Sirius's safe and clownish hands. Her tears eventually dried up, though, the pink on her nose and cheeks cleared away, and she was smiling before the night was over. Bittersweet as it was, the night remained happy, unsullied, and McGonagall didn't bother us, even as the party inched into the early hours of the next day, still as loud as it was at the start.

_The Dance_

Now that the exams are done, and the entire school is free from classes, the next order of business is this dance. Interest level in it is very high and Annie Potent is a hero for suggesting it. With only a few minor hitches, the deliveries for all the decorations and things came in this morning, and James and I oversaw the prefects putting them up.

They reminded me of James after the Quidditch match, with their happiness. Mavis and Will, being Ravenclaws, were a little stiff at first to Annie and Trey, who are Gryffindors, but the House rivalries barely mattered as they got into the decorating, squabbling over the perfect place for every item we'd bought. They were too interested in making things work – it made me glad to see.

In the beginning of the year, we were just a bunch of awkward teenagers who (for the most part) weren't thrilled with our positions of mild authority. Now, I don't think it's a far stretch to say we care about each other.

It took us several hours, even with magic, to get everything in place. Mavis kept whining about the placement of what we called the Lover's Gazebo but Michael threatened to hex her and her complaints mysteriously vanished on the spot. Annie tried to flirt with Jonathon a little, wrap the ribbons around his person and pull him around the Hall, but he wasn't entirely cooperative, getting bored quickly and chastising her for misusing resources. She was slightly disheartened, but obediently put the ribbons where they belonged.

The scene in the Great Hall is ready and admittedly looks pretty fabulous. I think it's going to be a great dance. Now the only thing to worry about is my dress.

See, the dress thing has been a bit of a dilemma for all the females of Hogwarts.

Since we're at school, and there are pretty much no chances for everyone to get dressed up, Hogsmeade doesn't really carry formal wear. Since the village is home to a great many other wizards with more to celebrate, though, there is one small formal dress shop on a tiny street in the back of the village. And recently, it has been ransacked by Hogwarts girls trying to get dresses.

The poor shop, ill-equipped to handle so many girls (and a few boys, for their male section), tried its best to accommodate, but the crowd was too big and after the first wave, the shop couldn't help anymore. That left a sizeable part of the population without dress-wear.

Undaunted, we students looked to other, less-unsatisfactory avenues for dress-wear. The solution some brain came up with was to owl home and have parents pick out clothes with a very strict list of requirements. Like wildfire, the idea spread, and owls have been raining down on us at mealtimes for the past week. I, actually, was one of them. Alice always keeps dresses on hand because she's weird, and she offered to lend me something, but her taste in dresses does not see eye-to-eye with mine and I politely declined.

My dress came yesterday morning. I'd sent Mum an owl two weeks ago, but she, busy with Petunia's upcoming wedding, hadn't gotten around to finding anything until now. I tried to open it at the breakfast table, but there were too many curious onlookers (i.e. my friends) and I wanted to keep my outfit a surprise. I waited until me, Alice and Livvy were alone before I got a good look at it.

Alice thinks it's gorgeous, and Livvy thinks it's lovely, but I'm not so sure.

Mum, not famous for her discretion, chose a tight-fitting, olive-green dress – strapless, down to my knees, with very little covering my back. It was a beautiful, beautiful garment, don't get me wrong, but I was mortified at the idea of _me _wearing it. I don't have a bad frame, but I couldn't possibly carry off such a dress. It was beyond my natural charms.

Sadly, though, I have little choice in the matter. Mum left it too late for me to get another dress and Alice's collection is even less like me. So unless I want to turn up in jeans, I have to wear the dress. Alice insists it's going to look great, but I'm not so sure. When am I ever? Knowing me, I'll probably spill punch on it or something.

_The Present_

So, now that the clock is telling me it's five thirty, and I've written down pretty much everything of even vague interest from the previous few days, it's time for me to get dressed for the dance. Alice might just kill me if she turns up at my portrait hole to primp and put on makeup and I'm not even in my dress yet. Plus, I really do need her help, and she won't give it to me if she's pissed.

Until a bit later, then.

**6:30 PM**  
_Status_: Frazzled

So when I left off, I was going to start putting on my dress in anticipation of Alice's inevitable visit. She loves getting ready in my dormitory since it's private and everything. But, unfortunately, at the particular moment Alice quietly entered my dormitory I was in my bathroom, still wrestling with my dress. The dress was a little difficult to slip into, since the material was tight and the dress was meant to be frame-hugging anyway – and at that point, it was looped around my thighs and I was absorbed, debating whether or not to loosen it with magic to get it on.

As I pondered, however, Alice thought it would be extremely funny to pad into my bathroom without making _any _sound, turn up behind me, and make a loud noise right in my ear. Needless to say, I was astonished (to say the very least) and when I jumped about a foot in the air, my foot slipped on the slippery dress material and I fell to the floor, right on my bum. Alice could barely breathe for laughing and I was just extremely cross.

"Thanks a bunch, Alice," I griped. "Nice to see you too."

"Hey, Lils," said Alice, smiling sweetly at me as she offered me a hand up.

I sighed huffily at her, but the annoyance was put on the back-burner as I got a look at her dress, which she was already wearing.

"My word, Alice," I said. "You look _amazing_."

"You think?"

Pleased, Alice did a little twirl for me. Her dress – a short, navy-blue little thing with a particularly flouncy skirt – twirled with her. She was wearing matching navy-blue flats, no heels for dancing, and with her long, newly-curled brown hair and bright, wicked brown eyes, she looked stunning, like a fairy princess or something.

"Honestly," I said. "You're beautiful."

Alice gave me another sweet smile – this one less sarcastic – and said, "Well, I'd say the same about you, but you're not quite ready yet."

"No kidding." I sighed and gave the dress a half-hearted tug upwards. "I hate this stupid thing."

Alice snorted. She wasn't the slightest bit disconcerted by the fact that I was standing with a dress around my legs in my underwear (obviously, we've been friends for far too long). Instead, she came up behind me and started to examine my dress, seeming to look for something.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Opening up your zipper," said Alice. "Aha, there's the little bugger. Found it!"

She gave the zipper a firm tug and instantly, I felt the tight pressure subside, leaving the dress looser and much more breathable.

"My word!" I said as I pulled the dress up, now without so much resistance. "I can't believe I forgot the zipper!"

Alice snorted again. "Yeah. You need to get out more."

I stuck my tongue out at her and she ignored me in favor of redoing my zipper for me.

"There we go," she said, smoothing the dress out from the back. "Let me see you."

I turned around to face her and she took a sharp intake of breath, her eyes huge as they drank me in.

"My word!" she said, practically breathless. "Lily, you are…oh my goodness. Just have a look in the mirror."

She herded me over to my bathroom mirror and I did get a look at myself. And, admittedly, I looked…pretty. Mum certainly had picked a good dress. The green brought out the green in my eyes and my hair looked nice, for once, appearing almost brown against the olive-colored material. My curves – small and virtually non-existent – looked especially nice, draped that way.

"I actually kind of like it," I confessed. "I didn't think I would, but I do."

"Because you are looking incredibly fantastic and your poor boyfriend is going to faint with horniness when he sees you," Alice declared.

"And yours won't?" I gestured at Alice in her navy finery. "He'll drool you an ocean!"

Alice smirked. "So will James. But let's make him drool you two oceans – I want to do your hair and make-up."

"What about Livvy?" I asked, just remembering that she wasn't with us.

"She's coming," said Alice. "She wants to try her hand at her own hair and make-up, but I made her swear to check back in here with me before we let her out in public."

"Is she going with anyone?" I asked as Alice uncorked a bottle of hair potion, which she had evidently brought with her.

"Yeah," she said, putting some of the bright liquid in her hand and rubbing it in my hair. "Sirius offered to go with her as friends."

"That's sweet," I said. "What about Remus and Peter?"

"Remus is taking out Georgia Bernard and Peter has June Corseyes," Alice said promptly, coming up behind me to put hair potion in the back. "Nothing serious – they're there for show, basically. Not that they know it or anything."

I chuckled. "Very nice."

"So we're all meeting at the main staircase, right?" Alice checked, finishing up with the hair potion and dragging me to my sink. She had brought her make-up bag with her, too, and liked the lighting in my bathroom. "At seven?"

"Yes," I said as she almost poked my eye out with mascara.

"Lovely," said Alice, moving onto the eyeliner next. "I'm so excited, Lils. A dance! Thank that Annie Potent for me again, won't you?"

"If she's not already surrounded by another host of grateful girls," I said. "Annie is quite popular these days."

"I can imagine. Do your fish lips for me, won't you, darling?" Alice was holding lipstick.

I obliged for two full minutes as she played around with lipsticks and dabbed at my mouth with a napkin if she felt the color was too strong.

"There," she said presently. "Lovely. Did your mum send you shoes with this?"

"Yes, she did." I crossed my room to the corner, where, under a pile of semi-dirty laundry, a little bag sat containing my shoes. I specifically told Mum to buy flat shoes so that I could dance properly, but the shoes she chose had little stumpy heels on them. I knew I would fall flat on my face and so did she, so she sent a note apologizing and saying she'd rather have me match and fall, than stay upright and not look as good. Obviously, Mum has my best interests at heart when I'm not around to defend myself.

I stuck my feet into the shoes and wiggled them for Alice. She grinned, clearly impressed, and didn't even comment on the heel. She played around a little more with my curls, fussed over my dress, and complimented my shoes. Then we sat around on my bed, because Alice insisted she had to see Livvy before going anywhere else.

Livvy eventually turned up at my portrait. I think this was around ten past six. She was wearing a dress colored deep-plum – and as she's the curviest of our little trio, she looks positively mouthwatering (in a totally objective, heterosexual way). It's another tight one, with a mischievously short, flouncy skirt (somewhat like Alice's), no straps, and limited back coverage. She wore black flats with it that made her feet look small. And, for once, there was animation in her face – a bit of light in her eyes, some color in her cheeks, a smile on her face. It was the first time in living memory that she dressed up voluntarily.

I instantly went into complimentary mode and Alice went into I-need-to-primp-you-up-because-you-look-absolutely-darling-and-you'll-let-me mode. I've been collapsed on my bed, then, noting all this down as Alice dumps hair potion all over Livvy, experiments with make-up and tries to avert any questions about what she calls her "process."

We're practically ready for this dance and the anticipation in my little dormitory is enough to take the roof off – and we're only three. The entire school must be beyond enthralled. This dance is going to go on for hours and hours – plus, Annie Potent swore Celestina Warbeck would be here by ten and could stay as long as we wanted. We're going to have so much fun. Too much fun.

Alice and Livvy have already made me swear not to overdo the snacks, or getting my already-tight dress off will be a bitch. Our dates – the wonderful, amazing people who love us so deeply (I think that counts in a platonic way for Livvy and Sirius too) – are going to be waiting for us at the staircase in a half hour. We're set to go.

I think we have a little more pre-dance discussion to indulge in, as Alice finishes up with Livvy, so I must be off; however, I shall write some time tomorrow to discuss the dance. I have the distinct feeling that there will be a lot to say.

So…wish me luck. Until later, then!

-

June 9

**5:30 AM**  
_Status_: Lightheaded

It's before six in the morning on a Sunday. The sun is up, young daylight – a pale, musty golden – streaming in through the window. I'm in my dormitory, on my floor, curled up in my blanket with James beside me, still asleep. To be honest, I should be asleep with him, but my eye opened in that way it just sometimes does, and I knew I had to write. My heart and head are full to the brim with things I need to go over one more time, make sense of.

So…last night. The dance. Let me tell you about it.

The grandfather clock tolled seven and we three girls slipped out of my dormitory, feeling like little girls waiting for a grand ball. We joined the stream of girls and boys dressed in their best, whispering excitedly and shuffling forward towards the Great Hall. Our progress was slow, but we were too keyed up to care. Soon enough, we reached the main staircase and looked for our dates.

They weren't hard to find. James, Sirius, and Frank, all looking quite smart in their dress-robes, standing at the foot of the stairs like Victorian suitors. They seemed to stand out like beacons against the crowd and we ran towards them, all propriety forgotten.

"Merlin's beard," said James, looking me over up and down. "You look beautiful, Lily."

"So do you," I said, grinning and running my hand down the material of his robes. "These are soft."

He grinned back and leaned in, presumably to kiss me, but he noticed my lipstick and kissed my cheek instead.

"Thanks," I said. "Alice would kill us both if you messed up her make-up job. She spent, like, five full minutes on my lipstick."

"Wouldn't want to ruin a job so well done," he said with a smirk. "Now c'mon. Let's go enjoy our handiwork."

"You mean the prefects' handiwork," I reminded him. "We did squat."

"Hey, hey, who do you think stopped Michael from punching Kate out for the gazebo placement?" James reminded me. "And who do you think convinced Annie Potent not to wear that hideous corsage? I've been saving the show, basically."

I laughed. "Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that."

As we walked into the Great Hall, I could see Alice/Frank and Livvy/Sirius from the corner of my eye. They seemed so happy, so oblivious to everyone but their date. Frank was cuddling Alice close and whispering something in her ear; Sirius was telling Livvy some story and Livvy was throwing her head back, laughing, practically glowing. They looked happy. They looked comfortable. And seeing them that way made me feel even more so myself.

James and I entered the Hall together, then, admiring the decorations. They really did look fantastic. Many students were gawking at them, speaking in an undertone to their friends/dates, shuffling over to get snacks and punch, still pointing. Even the teachers could be spotted wearing their best outfits and talking, relaxed and cheerful in this change of scenery. Music floated through the air from Sirius's player – it had been selected by all the prefects to keep it fair – and people were already starting to dance.

James turned his head to look at me. "So…what do you want to do?"

"Erm…I dunno," I said. "Do you want to have a snack, or do you want to dance?"

"A snack sounds good," he said.

"You and I can be so alike sometimes," I said, rolling my eyes. "Let's go get some punch."

I grabbed his hand and the two of us walked over to the punch table, where a considerable amount of people were gathered, drinking and socializing. These were the people that were awkward to start, but would soon become bloodthirsty party animals, once the mood livened up a bit.

James gallantly poured me a glass of punch and I sipped it, watching as he poured his own and drank half of it in one gulp.

"This is good," he said. "Who picked out the refreshments?"

"Kate," I said.

"I'll have to thank her once we're done here," remarked James, taking another sip of his drink. "It's good."

I drained the last of my punch from my glass and put it down. "I'd really like a biscuit, but Alice and Livvy made me swear not to eat too much, or else my dress won't come off," I informed him.

"One biscuit won't kill you," James said, dangling one in front of my face.

"Maybe, but one biscuit leads to another, which leads to another, which leads to me overindulging," I reminded him, pushing his hand away. "You forget I have the self-control of a black hole."

James laughed. "Okay," he said. "Then how about you eat one and I'll take you away from this table, so that you're not tempted to have another."

"Aww, you'd do that for me?"

"Of course I would."

He smiled at me and handed me the biscuit. It was small, square, with a dollop of chocolate frosting on it. I examined it for a moment, then popped it in my mouth whole. Merlin, it tasted good. I chewed it up and swallowed it down, smirking as James chuckled away at me.

"After that eating competition, watching me eat a biscuit shouldn't be so funny," I pointed out.

"I know," he said. "But you never cease to amaze me, Lily."

I smile shyly and let him put his arm around my waist. He kissed my (elaborately curled and styled) hair and asked, "Hey, you want to dance?"

"All right," I said.

He released me from his side and took my hand, leading me to the dance floor. More people were dancing now, the shyness beginning to dissolve as the student body realized this is a prime opportunity to let go/have fun, and the current song was mid-tempo, fun. We picked a spot and let the rhythm overtake us, being idiots (as per usual) and laughing our heads off.

The next song was faster, and so were the ones that came after it; and somewhere in the midst of the chords and words and movement, the dance finally became a dance, with everyone dancing and sweating and being happy. The world melted away in a cheesy, romantic-comedy kind of way and I forgot about my dress, the biscuits, Alice, Livvy, everyone, everything. My senses narrowed the scene down to the music, my awareness of my less-than-coordinated dance moves, and the person in front of me. What else really mattered?

Time passed in dollops. For quite some time, I danced with James, letting his superior coordination skills lead me when necessary, but then we got tired and retreated to the snack area again. Deciding I'd lost enough weight tonight, I had three biscuits and made James chuckle. I also had punch – which really was excellent. I stood around, drinking and trying to be careful of my dress and talking to James, when Livvy and Sirius turned up. Sirius's robes were jostled, Livvy's hair a mess, and they looked like they were having the time of their lives.

"Hey!" said Sirius. "How are you?"

"Fine, fine," said James, amused. "And how about you?"

"Great! Right, Livvy?" He nudged her side as she sipped her punch and made her squeal.

"Watch it, Sirius!" insisted Livvy, giving him a smack in the back of his head.

Sirius stuck his tongue out at her, but turned his attention back to me. "You know, Lils," he said, "I've come to the conclusion that we don't spend nearly enough time together."

"Oh?" I arched my eyebrow upward.

"Yes," said Sirius. "I mean, come on. You're always with James, or you're with Alice and Livvy. I'm jealous. I'm your friend too, right? Right?"

"Are you drunk?" I inquired.

"How dare you!" Sirius wrinkled his nose at me.

"Is he drunk?" I redirected my question to James, who chuckled.

"No," he said with a twinkling eye.

"I'm not often drunk," Sirius objected. "Just sometimes. And I'm not joking! I think we need to hang out more."

"Is this your way of asking me to dance?" I asked. "Because you could, you know, just come right out and ask me."

"Well, if I did, you'd still ask if I was drunk, so I figured I'd tell you why I want to," Sirius reasoned. "You're my best friend's girlfriend. We're practically obligated to have at least one dance."

"I accept," I said, grinning, and offering him my hand. "Let's dance."

"D'you mind, old buddy, old pal?" Sirius fluttered his eyelashes at his best friend. "I know, it must be horrible for you, letting go of your girlie for more than a minute, but I promise I'll have her back in one song."

We three laughed and I said, "C'mon! The song's starting!"

James and Livvy waved good-bye as Sirius and I ran to the dance floor. His hand was sweaty, but his grip firm, as he squeezed me tightly and found us a spot to dance. The song – of course – was a slow one and I permitted him to put his hand on my waist, let my hand rest in his. He was extraordinarily handsome in the soft lighting Annie Potent had picked out – his eyes were dark and glittery, his features somehow even more enigmatic in the limited brightness. Even now, I found myself back in my thirteen-year-old shoes, amazed that I ran in the same circle as this guy better fitted for paintings of Greek mythology than Hogwarts.

"Can you believe we're honestly seventh years at the end of our time here?" Sirius asked me abruptly about thirty seconds into the song, looking around us at the decorations, the Great Hall, with nostalgic affection.

"I know," I said honestly. "It's…beyond me."

"But this dance thing was a great idea," he said. "A great way to commemorate our last days. Making our final memories, you know?"

The thought of final Hogwarts memories – _Hogwarts_, my home and place of learning for such a significant portion of my life – saddened me more than I could say. "You're right," I said. "But it was Annie Potent's idea, not mine or James's."

Sirius grinned, his white teeth almost like a flash of lightning. "Well, still. I'm glad we're here."

"Me too." I smiled. "You seemed to have been enjoying yourself with Livvy."

"I like Livvy," said Sirius casually, sincerely, with no trace of underlying meaning. "She's sweet. I enjoy being her friend and I enjoy being around her."

"To be honest, I'm kind of glad you're with her," I admitted. "She's been a mess since Russell died and she smiles more when you're around."

Sirius nodded. "I know," he said. "I took an interest initially because of that – I thought maybe she could use a fresher face to talk to – but honestly, now that we're friends, I'm kind of surprised we weren't close before, you know, when James was going out with her. I feel like I've known her all my life."

"Well, that's good," I said, smiling. "I'm glad we can all be friends."

"And you know, that counts for you too," he said. "My being surprised we weren't close. You're not half bad."

"Really? Well, thank you, Sirius, that means a lot," I said, my eyes crinkling at the edges with the extent of my smile.

"No problem, Lils, no problem," said Sirius, stroking my hair.

We danced in this light, easy fashion for the entirety of the song. I was almost sorry when it ended, and we took a step back, and Sirius gave me a sarcastic bow as an honest thanks-for-playing gesture. Together, we returned to the refreshment table, where James and Livvy still stood. Livvy's eyes looked suspiciously red as she apprehended our return, and so did James's, but I waited until Livvy was safely back with Sirius and I was safely back with James to ask.

We were dancing to another slow song when I softly inquired, "Hey, you okay?"

"I am," he assured me, leaving my hand for just a moment to rub his nose. "Really."

"What were you and Livvy talking about?" I asked.

"Just…I don't even know." The redness returned to his nose and eyes. "It was the first time we've been alone in a long time and I suppose it was long coming. She asked me if we were okay and I said we were. Then she hugged me and started to cry. Her tears set me off, so…well, we were pulling ourselves together when you and Sirius came back."

"Aww." I pulled my hand back and let my arms loop loosely around his neck, my cheek on his chest. "Well, at least you've got a bit of closure with Livvy and gave her some as well. That's necessary, you know?"

"I guess." He coughed, seemingly to clear his throat, and rubbed his eyes and nose again. "But tonight's not a night to cry. I actually have some news for you."

"Really?"

"Really." James smiled at me and pulled me in a little tighter, so our conversation had even less of a chance of being overheard.

"So, I talked to the Marauders about the Order, like I said I would," he said.

"And?"

"And, as I predicted, they want to do it," he said. "Sirius wants to join this summer. Remus and Peter agree. They were so much…braver than I gave them credit for. I thought they'd be as terrified as I was. And am."

"They probably are," I said gently. "But, they realize that there are bigger things out there than their fear. I've been coming to that realization myself, to tell the truth."

"Talking to them made me feel the same way," he admitted. "But…I mean, come on. I had a legitimate point when we last talked about it. We don't _need _to do this."

"We don't _need _to do anything," I said. "But sometimes, we _should_. And, I mean, Alice is the same way – she is ready to do whatever they want her to. Livvy, in her own time, will want to be there as well. We'd be in it together."

"I want to," he said earnestly. "I do, I want to…but Merlin, I swear, I'm scared out of my mind. We're so young."

"I'm scared too," I said. "And you've brought up valid points. We're young and I should figure out my priorities before I join. So I'm going to spend the month of June at home, with my family, and get a Muggle job to start raising an income for the summer. I want to get a little flat with Alice and Livvy, share around the rent – Livvy's mum knows a few places we can get cheap and we're going to take a look. Then, after Petunia's wedding, I want to send Dumbledore an owl and join the Order. We're young, James, but we're not _that _young anymore. We can make our own decisions and this is mine. I've wracked my brains, but that's the only plan that makes sense to me. I want to be part of the resistance and I want to start soon."

"Then let's do it," said James solemnly, after a brief pause. "Sirius has a place – one of his uncles died and left him a bit of gold and a flat or something – and we Marauders can camp out there for the summer until we have enough to move out. We'll join together – after Petunia's wedding."

I squeezed his hand tight. "Sounds like a plan."

James paused. "But Lily?"

"Yes?"

"Promise me you won't leave me."

"Why would I leave you?" I asked.

"Well…you know…"

His expression – arrested like an eight-year-old boy – was hilarious, but utterly poignant. I picked up his meaning at once and I hugged him, tight tight tight, to show him so.

"You're doing it again," I said.

"What?"

"Making me wish I could turn time back and go out with you two years earlier," I said wryly.

He chuckled, but his features were softened considerably as he beheld me, the worry melting out of his face as he took in my spur-of-the-moment remark. "I'm touched. Do explain."

"Like…I dunno," I said lamely as we rotated slowly in a circle, James's hand a little bit tighter on my waist. "Like, you say something cute and I feel warm inside, because you're incredibly lovely and I wish I could've seen it sooner, spent more time at school with you. I waited until spring of our last year to decide to give you a chance you obviously deserved sooner."

James mulled on this one thoughtfully. Then, after a moment, he said, "Well, I don't agree. I'm quite glad that we waited until now."

This puzzled me. "Really?"

"Yes, really," he said.

"Do explain," I urged.

He smiled at me, but said in perfect seriousness, "Because two years ago, when we were fifth years, I was – as you so rightly pointed out – an arrogant, ignorant, attention-seeking and self-happy prat. If you went out with me, it would've made me even more arrogant."

"Oh, I promise, I would've brought your head down to earth," I muttered.

"No, you wouldn't have," James told me frankly. "That day, after the OWL's…you really brought it home to me, you know. That I had a problem. I spent ages trying to figure out why you wouldn't go out with me when every other girl would, and from there, I realized I had to change my ways. I grew up because of you. And if you hadn't pushed me, and stayed stuck so strongly by your accusations against my character, I wouldn't have been able to clean up my act. I wouldn't have been able to deserve being with you."

The look he gave me then was so tender, so loving, his touch incredibly wonderful as he un-tucked a small curl from behind my ear, exposing it to the evening and allowing it to hang by my face, bask in his gaze.

"We wouldn't have been like this if you had accepted me earlier," he said. "And, I mean, this year was quite perfect, wasn't it? You, slowly beginning to trust me and be my friend; me, figuring out you were so, so much more than the girl I thought you were. Even if it was awkward sometimes, I wouldn't have had it any other way."

I swear, my cheeks were probably an infected-looking red at this point, with all my blotchy blushing.

"What do you mean, you figured out I was more than the girl you thought I was?" I couldn't help but ask.

James sighed. "You know how when we were younger, you kept saying I only liked you because of the chase?" he asked. "And I kept telling you it was animal magnetism?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, we were both right," he said. "I noticed you on pure animal magnetism. But after the first rejection, you _were _like a game. I hated putting it that way, but it was. You running away made me want you more, but I never bothered to know you properly. Not _really_. This year, however, I did, and I think we're better for it – don't you?"

I laughed wryly, but I really wanted to throw my arms around him and cry my eyes out. It was a bizarre impulse, I know, but I didn't know what else to do. I'm a sucker for flattery, I am, I am, and James's words seemed to tickle my very soul, seemed to speak to my very heart, and everything about where we were – the slow love song, the dance floor full of sweaty couples, my shoes that were slowly beginning to cut into my heels and this strange, beautiful boy – seemed to hit me with the force of a million bricks.

Merlin. After all this time, I was leaving Hogwarts and James Potter was my boyfriend and I loved him and he loved me and it was almost too much for me to take in at once.

So instead of bursting into tears, I did the next best thing – I did throw my arms around him and I kissed him, hard and honest. Unprepared, he seemed a bit dazed at first, but he found his rhythm and we kissed and the music played on around us, impossibly magnificent, the moment untouched for all its innocent beauty.

And even then, I wanted to cry. You can tell a lot about a person by the way they kiss you and I could tell, even in my half-manic state, that he kissed me well (and not in the stereotypical way).

It wasn't late by any stretch of the imagination – Celestina Warbeck hadn't even turned up yet – but suddenly, I didn't want to be at the dance anymore. It was my last night at Hogwarts and I didn't want to be in this crowd, dancing to this music, pretending I wasn't feeling what I felt. I wanted to be upstairs, alone with James, and nothing else in the world consumed me, as I whispered, "Let's get out of here."

Mercifully, he understood my mood and asked, "My dorm or yours?"

"Yours," I said.

He nodded and without another word, we were holding hands and slipping out of the crowded hall together, unnoticed by our friends or anyone else. Their noise lingered in the air even as we ran up the main staircase and into the next corridors, but the silence engulfing us was more potent, leaving our situation more stripped-down – the sound of our breathing, the sound of our heartbeats, our footsteps, interlocking like our sweaty fingers.

We came up to the seventh floor, stumbled down the corridor leading to our dormitories, our safe havens all year. James mumbled his password at the portrait, his breathing still ragged, and we stepped inside. One sole lamp remained on, casting an eerie honey glow across the room, but we didn't care – our blankets from the previous night were still on the ground and we collapsed into them, him holding me, me holding him, everything somehow so much more meaningful in the half-dark.

I leaned forward, looking for him, but he was already there and we kissed once more, rougher than downstairs – impatient, fervent, other-worldly. We quickly skipped over the sweet part of the first kiss and leaped right into the desperate part, where nothing you do or feel is enough to quench the black hole in your chest that wants to devour him whole. It was a new kiss, taking me to a place I haven't been before with him, and I was eager to meet him halfway.

I was horribly aware of my body – my clumsy movements, my hands in his hair, the floor beneath the blanket adding pressure to my knees – and I could feel him almost as if he was inside of me. It was wild, awkward, but in a brilliant way, a magical way. The change in me was physical, apparent – my guts, twisting, twisting, that knot behind my navel telling me inexplicably that tonight was going to special. I really had never been here before.

But then, as my tummy bubbled with acid and goodness knows what else, as the pressure behind my face built, everything fell away for the second time this evening as James whispered into my mouth, "Do you want to?"

The weight of these four words came upon me like no other, a tumult to add to the rest of the sensory overload, but something in my chest flew away, a little bird finally free, and I felt my mouth move and say one word:

"Yes."

At first, James froze and broke our kiss, as though astonished by my answer; but for once, fearlessness began to take over all the other sensations brewing inside of me. I leaned towards his face and kissed his ear, his jaw, working my way down his neck slowly, reverently. The raging want that had warmed our atmosphere cooled sweetly, like chilled watermelon, and I could feel the tension in him relax, his breaths calming, calming, and I slid both my hands under his robes, carefully easing the garment off of his shoulders.

He helped me shake it off, kneeling with me in just black pants and a white shirt; and then his hands were gently, gently working his way up my back, to my dress zipper. He gave it a tug and it came down without a fight. I had to help him take that monstrous thing off of me, but we took our time, made it slow and pretty, and even that stupid dress didn't feel like such a hindrance, with his sweaty hands brushing against my flushed skin, both of us working together against an article of clothing I swear I will never wear again.

Soon enough, I was bare, exposed – in my underwear, my white strapless bra (borrowed from Alice) glowing weirdly in the half-light. We kissed again, his arms around my empty waist, and we took off his white shirt and black pants, still with that same aching leisure, still kissing, still holding.

Somewhere in my brain, I registered that I had never done this so slowly before – that I always hastily jumped over the part where you take off your clothes, because I found it awkward – but I dunno. It felt _right_, somehow, letting him open me layer by layer, peeling me instead of ripping me; as he had said earlier tonight, our slow ascent in trusting one another made the year quite perfect, and our slow ascent now made this as perfect as it could ever be.

And even when we're awkward together, it's…okay. He just makes it that way.

At long last, then, he managed to unhook my bra from behind and let it fall, like a petal or a leaf, to the ground. I removed his boxers and we lay down, my hair splaying out behind me, his eyes staring at me like a beacon in a lighthouse, our faces so close, but not touching.

I opened my mouth, as if to say something, as if to tell him how I felt – as if I had something worth saying – but he silenced me swiftly. A kiss on my mouth, then a kiss on my jaw, a kiss on my neck, my shoulder, my collarbone. Again, I was horribly aware of my body – every quiver, every thumping bloodline, every sensation of hot and cold – and again, I realized I've never gone so slowly before.

I don't mean to make myself out to sound whorish or anything, but…I dunno. The two times before this one, I was kind of…quick. Maybe it's my leaky memory, maybe it's real, I dunno. But I do know that I've never really done this kind of foreplay. I just sort of went into the main event, too flurried to consider anything else.

But this time, I don't do that. I let him kiss every part of me, emitting sounds I never knew I could make; and as we committed the ultimate act of being together in every sense of the word, feeling him inside of me, I found my eyes welling up with tears.

They were the truest, most silent tears I'd ever cried. Tears of pleasure, of bliss, of love. Tears of what-is-going-on-and-am-I-really-here. Tears of I-am-so-confused-in-such-a-wonderful-way. Tears of pure wonder.

And as we lay there laced together on our blankets, breathing thickly, free and perspiring slightly, our gazes caught under the honey light and I finally got a look at James's face.

And he had tears in his eyes as well.

"Hey, hey," I managed to mutter, my throat thick with emotion. "Tonight's not a night to cry, remember?"

The corners of his mouth twitched a little with my feeble joke, but his voice was serious as he said, "Tonight's our last night here, you know."

The lump in my throat got even bigger. "I know."

"And this was it, this was the place," he almost whispered, tone strained, the gold light catching the hazel in his irises so exquisitely. "This was where everything happened, where I fell in love with you and now we have to leave. It feels _wrong_."

"But we have tonight, don't we?" I almost whispered back. "So let's make our final memories here, you and me, before we go."

He leaned forward and kissed me, his hand finding my mine and his thumb rubbing the inside of my wrist. "From here on out, it's a new unknown," he said.

"I'll know you," I pointed out. "And I'll know our friends. That's all that matters."

In response, he swept in and kissed me again, with such earnest, clear-cut affection that I didn't want to let him go ever, ever, ever. I kissed him and kissed him and kissed him – his lips, his nose, his cheeks, his hair, his neck, his chest, everything – and the fear of moving forward, the knowledge that tonight was the last of life as we knew it, and the big, bad world itself was lost in the overflowing splendor of our joy.

Together, we made the purest, sweetest love two people could make, right there on the floor of the dormitory on the eve of our real adulthood, and we fell asleep like that, still interlaced, still naked, still free, still together. My head rested on his bare chest, his face in my hair, and I was happy in the simplest way possible, my senses buzzing and tingling.

Maybe last night wasn't my first, but in many ways, it felt like it was.

Sex can get messy. It can get complicated. The knowledge of your trust, intimate and considerable as it is, stays with you and it never leaves you, not really. It's like a many-headed creature of mythology – it's got a myriad of different faces, different implications, all wound up together, in this one act, in this one promise, that you can honor if you dare to.

I've gone there before, because I was young and stupid and I didn't know what I was, where I was going; but somehow, I knew in that way a girl just sometimes does, that tonight, it counted in a way it never has before.

If I ever doubted the way James and I love each other, I'm done doubting it now. Every fear, every insecurity I've ever had regarding our relationship, has melted away in every beautiful thing about him, me, us. I love him, love him like I've never loved anyone in my life, and it's not because we're fated or Alice said so or because everyone always seemed to know. It's because I love _him_ – everything about him – and he loves me too, just as ardently. Somehow.

I'm still sitting on the floor of James's dormitory, resting my back against the side of his bed. I'm still wrapped up in the blanket I fell asleep in, my knees up and my thighs acting as a table for this diary I'm writing in. The pale, musty sunshine that was up when I started writing is deeper, more concentrated now, incredibly intense and _there_, for a Scotland morning in June.

It's the day of my graduation from Hogwarts (although the school doesn't quite believe in a ceremony to send the graduates off). The day my time as a schoolgirl expires. Everything I've ever feared, everything I've ever dreaded or speculated about or cried over, it's here. The train leaves at eleven from the tracks and I will be home – or wherever home will be, when we girls go flat-hunting this summer.

James is right. Today, we start stepping out into the vast unknown, equipped with the tools to forge our own path. NEWT results come in mid-July and we can use them to get jobs in the magical community. We're really on our way.

It's nearing eight in the morning. I can feel James beginning to stir beside me and I still have packing to do. I have people to hug and cry with and say good-bye to. It's going to be a busy morning, I know. I'd better get going. The day has to start.

I'm sure I'll be back again some time today, diary. Likely on the train.

Until that moment, then.

--

A/N: This chapter took some major effort – like I said, school just started, and I'm pretty much out of it – but I think I'm pleased with it and I hope you are too. The handling of the sex scene in particular was a bit fiddly – I'm not generally the kind of writer who goes there, although I do sometimes if I'm particularly inspired – but it was just meant to be sweet, symbolic, not like a big physical description or anything (who writes explicitly about that in their _diary_?). It had to come off right and I did the best I could…

Anyway. The next two chapters are filler-ish in a necessary kind of way – tail-end of graduation, then the pre-wedding chapter, both including interactions from the families, who are quite important in the relationship process – and then we're done. That's it. The last chapter is the wedding and I bid thee farewell. Crazy, crazy, crazy.

Please be sure to leave a review before you exit out of the browser. Go on, I dare you.


	68. I Return Home Again

A/N: So glad about your reactions to last chapter. Looking back, I itch to edit – and I might in the future – but I'm tickled that you love it still, even when it's…whatever it is. Your feedback is much appreciated.

So all we've got now is two adorable fillers and a big, fat, adorable ending. We can do this, guys. We can totally do this. And I think you can like these fillers for what they are – I do believe that endings are like a wave of water – a big sweep, but made up fundamentally of tiny, itty-bitty things that knit together to bring you the final product in all its massiveness.

So here are your itty-bitty things in the form of two fillers. Let's go!

Cheers.

--

June 9 Cont.

**9:30 PM**  
_Status_: Surreal

Well…this was it. Today was my last day at Hogwarts, my last day collapsing on my bed and writing out my thoughts of the past few hours. I'm currently on my bed at home, writing with a pen because I'm too lazy to find my quill, and only now are the small shards of reality starting to hit me.

I'm really, really done. Never going back to Hogwarts as a schoolgirl ever again.

This morning was probably the most emotional morning I've ever had in my life. Honestly. The seventh years packed and dressed quickly (evident in the random socks sticking out of trunks and the bed-heads) in favor of milling around, crying their eyes out and saying good-bye to each other. I think I must've cried myself out, hugging and sobbing and saying that ugly word, good-bye, over and over and over again.

Phone-numbers, addresses, and goodness-knows-what-else was exchanged; friends cuddled to death and reminded each other how much they were loved. I hugged all the prefects – even Michael and Abby – and wished them well with the rest of their two years. Teachers wished us well and got a little teary as we continued to cry like human hosepipes; shrieks of "I'll miss you," "I love you," filled the corridors in a flurry of desperation. Everyone was in disarray, trying to get their things and get outside to the train as fast as possible. Or as slow as possible in the case of us seventh years.

Livvy, who hates good-byes even more than I do, made her rounds quickly and volunteered to save us a compartment on the train. Alice was the worst out of us all, crying until she literally didn't seem to have any more water left in her body for it. When we get down to the damn ugly middle of it, Alice is every ounce as sentimental as I am, and today – with the trunks and the empty dormitories – she broke down completely.

In contrast, the boys were mellow. Peter, happy to leave a school environment, said good-bye with a smile on his face; Remus acted like he was just going away for a summer, not a lifetime (likely a defense mechanism); Sirius bounded around and jumped on people when they weren't expecting him to, in order to leave a lasting impression, even on his last day. He also used Napoleon, trapped in his kitty box, as a weapon of surprise. James was probably the most emotional guy, tearing up a little as he said good-bye to other friends and acquaintances, but he, too, struck me as so composed. I calmed myself by figuring it was because they didn't quite know how final this was just yet.

The seven of us took our time, double-checking trunks and (in the case of we girls) shedding our last tears. But ten fifty came around quickly and the teachers began to herd us outside, forcing us to get on the train so we wouldn't miss it. We ambled out and cried a bit more, saying final-final good-byes on the platform and jumping inside, still shaking from the overflow of emotion.

Honestly, it's the craziest thing. All year, I've anticipated and dreaded and procrastinated this moment, this moment of pure love and emotion for my school, because I didn't want to believe the journey could be over. I came here for the first time as an eleven-year-old girl, young and innocent and earnest and unaware of the change, turmoil, that would engulf me so soon. Now I leave an eighteen-year-old woman and I don't quite know what to think. I'm kind of like that eleven-year-old girl again, as I watch Hogwarts disappear in my train window.

But by this point, Sirius had had enough of crying. He reckoned girls cried too much. Just get over it, he said. He then declared that for every subsequent tear out of any girl in the compartment (i.e. me, Alice, or Livvy) we would owe him a Galleon, which he would spend on treats from the snack cart, and he would not share them with us. And it was final.

The train ride was pleasant, light-hearted. We eight settled in on the seats, pairing up like we did. Alice cuddled up in Frank's lap, James cuddling up on my lap. Sirius and Livvy sat beside each other but were not cuddling, nor were Remus or Peter. Sirius offered to cuddle on one of their laps, but they politely declined (or, rather, Remus politely declined – Peter just laughed) and Sirius stayed where he was.

Sirius also put a blanket-ban on any talk of the past or future – we were to talk about silly things, transitory things, innocuous things, or else we would owe him another Galleon. I asked if he was in debt or something and he only gave me a mysterious, shifty little look before changing the subject and asking our opinion on Drooble's Blowing Gum.

Napoleon mewing contentedly in his kitty box that Sirius refused to put away with the other pets, we chatted animatedly for a while, our usual inane babble, and ate lunch together when the lunch cart came by. However, the truth of the matter was that we were exhausted and overwhelmed and we couldn't hide it after we had our heavy meals, consisting dominantly of candy. Slowly, one by one, we began to fall asleep afterwards, right where we sat, eager for a rest before we arrived home.

Alice went first, her mouth hanging open and her head lolled back against the seat, lightly snoring. Frank, realizing this, switched positions and allowed Alice to cuddle in on _his _lap instead, stroking her hair with a tenderness that made me melt just a little bit. She slept peacefully, not consciously knowing what had happened, but her face relaxed and she looked happy in a way she hadn't been all morning. She looked like she was already home.

Peter was the next to go, his head against the door of the compartment, his eyelashes surprisingly long against his pale skin. Livvy joined soon after, her head finding the seat uncomfortable and landing up on Sirius's shoulder beside her. Sirius noticed and copied Frank's motion, easing Livvy's head on his lap and letting her rest. He didn't stroke her hair, but the gesture was sweet – his hand lay on her back, as though protecting her from some force she was defenseless to.

At this point, only Remus, Frank, Sirius, James and I were awake. The afternoon was bright outside and we were running out of light topics to pursue. Remus and Frank gave up on it eventually, choosing instead to close their eyes and lightly take a cat-nap, Frank's hand still gently stroking Alice's hair. This left only Sirius, James and I – and James's eyes were closing.

"I think I might have a snooze, shall I?" James suggested. "I mean, it's only us three."

"The Three Musketeers were only three and they were famous enough for me to allude to them," Sirius pointed out.

"We're not the Three Musketeers. I'm tired," James stated.

"So go to sleep," I said. "I've got you, haven't I?"

"That you have," said James, snuggling comfortably against my legs. "Are you okay? Am I heavy?"

"You're perfectly fine," I assured him, giving his hair an affectionate ruffle. "Sleep. Sirius can keep me company. We can make sure we get in our quality time of the day."

My eyes were mischievous, and I knew he could tell I was joking, but Sirius pouted anyway, his chest swelling with indignation as he loudly said, "I _cannot _believe that an innocent, well-intentioned remark the other night is being held against me! This is what I get for wanting to be your friend, Lily Evans…I see how it is…"

"Oh, stop being a baby," I said lightly. "I'm happy to spend time with you. I do want to have our little quality time together."

Sirius seemed gratified by this, but James chuckled softly and closed his eyes. Absently, I ran my fingers back and forth through his (extremely thick head of) hair, giving his scalp a bit of an amateur massage. I can't say if it was very good or not, but James seemed to enjoy it – I could feel his body relax and his eyes closed, leaving him in a sweet, serene slumber. This did indeed leave me and Sirius the only ones awake.

We made the most of it, us being awake. Sirius graced me with his best jokes and made me explode in peels of laughter I could barely control (but had to in order to leave James's sleep undisturbed). He seemed to enjoy having a willing audience, however small it was, and we had a fun conversation, peppered with personal anecdotes and silliness. Sirius is pretty good with silly stories.

Once the silly stories began to run thin, Sirius asked me if I wanted to play Truth or Dare Sirius Style. This entailed him giving me all the truths and dares – truth questions being outrageous inquiries about my love (i.e. sex) life and the dares being waking up the people in our compartment. Needless to say, this game didn't last long, and we lapsed back to our casual conversation, him doing a lot of the talking and me doing a lot of the laughing.

Sirius is an easy guy to talk to. He's hilarious, which I know I've already mentioned. But he also listens earnestly when you have something to say; and when you make him laugh, you feel brilliant, like you've done something fantastic, because you get to see his handsome face light up, seeming to eclipse the afternoon sunlight caressing his face with all its sincere amusement. Even if we're friends, I don't think I'll ever get over just how… breath-stealing he can be (in a totally platonic way).

However at some point much later, Sirius decided that conversing with me had failed to satisfy his thirst for entertainment and he pulled out a set of Exploding Snap. We put Silencing Charms on the pieces and Napoleon to eliminate the noise (a courtesy to our sleeping compartment-mates – Exploding Snap is as its name suggests and Napoleon always mews loudly when he sees the pieces break) and had several vicious matches. Sirius won four and I won three. Then we played cards – blackjack and the like – our necessary gambling wagers (Sirius insisted) being pieces of Drooble's gum. I lost quite a lot (even if it was only Drooble's, I felt fairly pathetic) and I quite vividly remembered why I don't play with money.

After what had to be our thousandth game of blackjack (it has always enormously tickled Sirius to find his last name in the title of this game – even though his last name can be found a million other places) the train began to pass familiar places and I could tell we were coming back into London. It still looked like afternoon, with the summer weather gloriously taking reign, but I knew it was about seven and I could feel the tiredness starting to formulate somewhere deep inside my bones. Sad though I was to leave Hogwarts, home was starting to sound pretty appealing by now.

As the train began to slow down, Sirius and I figured it was about time to wake up our friends. Remus, Frank and Peter were easy enough – we only had to give them a little nudge and they sprang right back into consciousness – but the others required a little more creativity. Frank ran his hand up and down Alice's back, quietly telling her in her ear that we were close to the platform and had to wake up. She took her time, letting Frank rub her for several minutes before easing her eyes open; and even when she was awake, she lay on his lap for quite some time, just lying there, like there was no where else she wanted to be.

The image was sweet to me – their relaxed intimacy, the way Frank kept rubbing Alice's back even though she hadn't asked, the way Alice smiled dazzlingly at him, simply because. They really were the best of friends, close in all the ways that mattered, and they made me ache – some people really just are that cute together.

By the time the train stopped at the platform and students started to spill out of compartments, Livvy and James were the only ones still left asleep.

"What are we going to do about them?" Sirius asked me, concerned, surveying his unconscious friends. "We have to go."

"Leave James to me," I said, stroking his hair protectively. "Just shake Livvy – she'll get up."

"C'mon Sirius, hurry up," said Remus, standing up and stretching out his limbs. "Lily's right – we have to go."

"She looks peaceful," said Sirius softly, his eyes not leaving Livvy. "I don't want to…I dunno, ruin it."

"What do you mean? You ruin all our sleep without a care in the world almost every day," Remus observed shrewdly, dryly, his eyes twinkling with his unique brand of humor as he began making his way out of the compartment door.

"She's honestly and deeply asleep!" Sirius insisted.

"So are we," Remus pointed out with a smirk. "Anyway, someone has to wake her up. I'm going to the platform to wake up my legs – they've fallen asleep. I'll see you outside."

"Right behind you, mate," said Peter, yawning hugely. "My legs feel like I've got sand in them."

"C'mon, then, Alice," said Frank. "Shall we get a move on?"

"Yeah, I suppose we'll have to." Alice sighed and unwillingly sat up on the seat, her brown hair full of static, standing every which way on her head. "Let's go."

Frank obediently stood after her and the two of them followed Remus and Peter out of the compartment. This left me, James, Sirius and Livvy still in our compartment – Livvy sleeping on the seat, Sirius standing, me sitting with James's head on my lap. Sirius was still scratching his head, pondering Livvy.

"You're going to have to wake her up, Sirius," I advised him. "I mean, it's not like you can carry her out or anything. She's much too heavy."

Suddenly, Sirius's eyes sparked with inspiration.

"Hey, Lily, that's genius!" he proclaimed. "Oh, darling, you're wonderful. Clearly the brains of your relationship. I'll carry her out! That way, she won't have to stumble out, half-asleep!"

I groaned. "You're not serious, are you?"

"I'm very serious," said Sirius solemnly, his eyes still sparkling mischievously. "I'm serious all the way. I'm Sirius Black!"

The wordplay made me groan and made Sirius chuckle merrily to himself – but he hadn't been kidding. He did pick Livvy up off the seat (with a little bit of effort) and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Miraculously, she was still asleep. Sirius gave me a salute and squeezed out of the compartment door, Livvy in tow.

I shook my head with laughter, wondering how he was going to explain to curious passerby why he was carrying a girl in his arms; but mostly, I was happy to see that Livvy had managed to attract a friend who so clearly cared about her. She needed that.

Sirius and Livvy aside, though, I still had the task of waking up my sleeping boyfriend and getting him to the platform.

"Hey," I whispered in his ear. "Can you hear me?"

Silence. No, I don't think he could hear me.

I gave him a little shake. "James? Are you conscious?"

There had been quite a lot of talking and moving around for the past couple of minutes. I entertained the hope that it had maybe stirred some of his senses a little bit. My hope, however, was quite wrong.

I gave him another shake. "C'mon, James, we've got to go. Wake up."

James grunted and otherwise made no reply. Wonderful.

With some difficulty, I shifted him so his face was directly facing mine instead of facing the other side of the compartment. His face was so innocent, so smooth and untroubled, that I almost felt bad I was taking him out of his dream-world. I wondered what he could be dreaming about.

Absently, I stroked his cheek, the side of his face, with the back of my hand, wondering what to do with him, when I heard him make a noise. I looked down and found he was smiling, consciously or not I couldn't tell. I smiled back, even if he couldn't see me; and on an impulse, I leaned down and kissed him.

At first, he didn't respond; but after a moment or two, he kissed me back and his eyes opened, large and so incredibly hazel.

"Hey," I said, breaking the kiss and smirking at him. "You're up."

"Indeed I am," he responded with a yawn. "And I must say, I like your methods far better than Sirius's."

I snorted. "Well, hurry up. We're here – everyone else is on the platform. I volunteered to stay behind and wake you up gently."

"Kind of you, sweetheart." He kissed me again and sat up, stretching and then standing. Once his weight was off my legs, I realized how heavy he was – and how my thighs felt like they'd been squished under a boulder. But I chose not to remark upon this.

Once James and I were successfully functioning, we slipped out of the compartment and went down to the platform, holding hands. Luggage was being taken off the train and students were retrieving theirs. That's where I found the rest of our little gang.

"Oh, lovely, you managed to wake up dear Jamie!" Sirius said, grinning as we approached. "Well done, Lils."

I rolled my eyes. "Where's Livvy?"

"She woke up when we got out here," said Sirius. "She's getting her trunk."

"Aren't you going to help her with it?" I asked.

"Merlin's beard, Lily, I already have to carry my own trunk – how the bloody hell am I going to handle hers too?" Sirius wrinkled his nose at me. "I'm good-looking, but I'm not a body-builder."

I laughed. "Nice."

At this moment, Livvy appeared with her trunk, beaming. "Hey!" she chirped. "Let's go find the parents. I've so missed them."

"Let me get my trunk first," I said. "And George, my owl. Poor love, he must be missing me."

"No, no, no," James interrupted, blocking my path. "Let _me _do it – because I'm a wonderful person and I don't mind a little extra discomfort if it means my best friend is happier."

Giving Sirius a teasing smirk, he sauntered off to the retrieval area of the platform and I shook my head, shaking with laughter. Sirius rolled his eyes, muttered something about idiotic guys that were not manly enough to look after themselves, and proceeded to harass Remus, who was innocently speaking to a friend of his, Anna Rhetman of Ravenclaw.

James eventually arrived with both our trunks and George's cage, heroically giving me mine and telling me proudly he dragged it all the way across the platform for me. George hooted as though in agreement. I thanked him and together, we secured George on my trunk, held the big fat things on opposite sides so that we could hold hands and find our families.

We found James's parents first; and honestly, even if James hadn't pointed them out to me and beckoned them over, I would've been able to tell they were related. James looked immediately like Mr. Potter, with the messy black hair and the hazel eyes, but the subtleties had obviously come from Mrs. Potter – the long eye-lashes, long (but straight) nose, the wide, cheerful mouth, although her eyes were brown and her hair was golden.

"Hello, my love," Mrs. Potter said, smiling brightly and throwing her arms out to give her son a hug. "How are you?"

"Hey, Mum." Smiling as well, James left his trunk with me and hugged his mother, then his father, the three of them the picture of happiness as his parents practically interrogated him about his emotions regarding his departure from Hogwarts. I smiled too, content to watch; but after a couple of minutes, the Potters noticed me and asked who I was. At this point, James grinned so hugely, I could tell he'd been waiting for this part – introducing me to his parents.

"Well…Mum, Dad, this is Lily," he said, coming to stand beside me, his arm around my shoulder. "She's my girlfriend."

"Hi," I said somewhat-meekly, my smile still in place. "Nice to meet you." And then I held my hand out to shake.

The eyebrow telegraph on the Potter parents went sky high at this.

"_This_ is the famous Lily Evans?" Mrs. Potter asked, shaking my hand though her eyes remained on James.

"And she's your girlfriend?" Mr. Potter asked, equally surprised as he shook my hand as well. "When did it happen?"

"Our first date was March eleventh," I told them automatically. To be honest, I have no idea how I remembered that – and neither did the Potters.

"Must've been a fabulous date, if you remember it so specifically," Mrs. Potter remarked.

"She threw up on my shoes," James said, smirking.

"Sirius's shoes," I corrected, although I blushed.

"Right, right."

Mr. Potter laughed. "Well, we're glad to meet you at long last, Lily. We've heard quite a lot about you."

I blushed. "Thank you," I said. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well."

"I assume we'll be seeing a lot of you this summer?" Mrs. Potter smiled expectantly, her eyes getting the same twinkle James's always do.

"Maybe you will." I shrugged, trying to be both cute and ambiguous. I was in serious impress-the-parents mode – and it seemed to work. Mr. Potter laughed appreciatively and told me I was welcome whenever I wanted, just Apparate over. James squeezed my shoulder and I felt good, standing there with the Potters. It already felt like I belonged there, like there was a little space they could make for me in their tight-knit trio. But as we laughed, I caught sight of my own clan and I couldn't bear to be away from them any longer.

"Hey, I'll be right back, okay?" I smiled at James, gave him a quick kiss, then disentangled him from my shoulder. He let me go and I ran to my mother, who was still looking around the platform for me. When she saw me, though, her face lit up and she threw her arms open wide, like James's parents had for him. She was waiting for me and I ran to her like I was five years old again.

"Mummy!" I collapsed onto her body, slim and medium-sized like mine, her familiar weight and feel and smell ringing so wonderful and true inside of me. "Oh, Mum, I've missed you."

"My little graduate, Lily!" Mum kept hugging and kissing me, not even letting my father or sister come anywhere near me. "Oh, my little girl, I love you so much. I've missed you."

"Me too, Mum, me too." Tears impossibly welled in my eyes again. After all my crying today, I couldn't believe I had more left in me. But I did and I wailed like an infant on my mother's shoulder, the weight of home and leaving and being an adult hitting me like a sack of bricks. I didn't care about the world, didn't care about anything – I just wanted my mummy.

"Did you get your dress all right? Did you remember to pack your toothpaste? Where is George?" Mum asked me from over my shoulder, still weeping.

"The dress was beautiful. I remembered the toothpaste. George is over there, by my trunk," I replied.

"Wonderful, wonderful." Mum sniffled loudly in my ear and released me, her face as pink and tear-streaked as mine. "Oh, Lily. I'm so glad you're home."

"Now is it all right if I say hello to my daughter as well, Kitty?" asked Dad with a grin. "In case you've forgotten, I've missed her too."

Laughing through my tears, I said, "Hi, daddy."

"Hey, baby." Dad came forward and hugged me tightly. "I believe your mother has already told you, but I'm happy to see you home again."

"Hello, Lily," said Petunia gravely. She wasn't quite looking me in the eyes, either. "It's nice to see you back."

"Hello, Petunia," I said, matching her formal tone. "I'm glad to see you."

Petunia nodded, but stepped back, allowing my parents to smother me again. She appeared stiff, standing uncomfortably like an extra in a film scene, waiting for our parents to give her their attention again. But Mum only had eyes for me and vaguely, I was sorry for Petunia, but not really. Was it my fault that I'd been gone for ages and ages? I wanted to see my parents. She saw them everyday. I didn't.

However, once the hello's were properly said, and Mum had calmed down a little bit, the peace was once again broken, this time by the Potters. I took one look at James and I could tell he wanted to meet my family, as I'd met his. My parents noticed our visual exchange and their parent-mode instantly went on the alert.

"Who's this?" my father asked, slightly on his guard by the sight of a boy in such close proximity to his youngest daughter.

"Yes, dear, who is this?" Mum echoed.

James and I looked up and smiled at each other at exactly the same moment; my chest swelling with pride, I turned to my parents, facing them head-on.

"Well…Mum, Dad, this is James," I said. "He's my boyfriend."

Quietly, said boyfriend came forward, put his arm around me to demonstrate his presence, and he cuddled me close, almost protectively. His smile widened – he, too, was in the ultimate parent-impressing mode – and he put his free hand out to shake.

"Hello," he said jovially. "Nice to meet you."

Dad shook James's hand first, utterly suspicious now. The forbidden word – boyfriend – had been uttered. Dad is okay with me having boyfriends so long as he never has to meet them and acknowledge they're real. He's never met anyone I've dated before. Suddenly, I'm not sure if this whole 'meeting the parents' thing is such a good idea.

Mum shakes James's hand too and I can see her appraising him, his mother, his father, trying to gain some kind of initial idea of their personalities. I don't know how she can do this just by looking, but she's making her judgments, figuring out what she wants to do next.

"It's very nice to meet you too," Mum ended up saying. "May I inquire as to your surname?"

"Potter," James provided politely. "I'm James Potter."

Mum's eyes widened; so did dad's, Petunia's. _James Potter_. A swear-word in my home for years and years. The truth dawned on them in a slightly unpleasant and awkward sort of way.

"Ah," said Dad. "Well. That's…interesting."

James nodded his head respectfully, but realized his parents were still standing there, exchanging glances and wondering what exactly was to happen next. He quickly took control over the situation.

"Erm, Mr. and Mrs. Evans, may I introduce you to my parents?" James gestured to them.

"Julie Potter," Mrs. Potter said politely, shaking hands with my still-stunned parents.

"Aidan Potter," Mr. Potter said, equally polite, offering his hand for a shake as well.

"Katherine Evans," Mum said. "Call me Kitty." She sounded rather faint.

"Michael Evans," Dad said. He sounded a little bit better than Mum, but not by much. "Very nice to meet you."

"Well, I suppose we'd better get going," Mrs. Potter instantly said, now that introductions were out of the way. "Got to get back home, have some supper. Lovely becoming acquainted, Kitty and Michael. I suppose we shall be seeing each other soon enough."

She smiled her dazzling smile, but whisked her husband away, the two of them quite pleased to be out of the company of my socially-challenged family. James lingered, perhaps hoping to kiss me good-bye, but I gave him a look telling him to go and he understood. He gave me another look telling me to owl him later and disappeared into the platform to fetch his trunk and go home with his family.

I would've rather liked to go off with his family too. Mine was the last group of people I wanted to be with tonight. But the best I could do was mutter something about getting my trunk and run after him, just barely catching him before he and his parents Apparated.

"James!" I called him.

Instantly, he whirled around, and the two of us met in the middle of the distance between us. Now we kissed properly – Mr. and Mrs. Potter, far from being concerned, were rather amused – and I said, "I gave you my telephone number this morning, didn't I?"

"Yeah," he breathed.

"Call me tomorrow," I said.

"Okay," he said. "And Lils?"

"Yes?"

"I love you," he said.

My heart melting a little, I said, "I love you too. Do you want to go to dinner tomorrow night?"

"Sounds brilliant."

We kissed one more time and I went to get my trunk for real. James waved good-bye and Apparated with his parents. Glowing inside, I picked up my trunk – and George – and wheeled it back to where my family stood, furiously in discussion while they waited.

"Hey," I said nervously. "Ready to go?"

Mum nodded. The celebratory, emotional mood had evaporated from her like rain under a heat-wave. Wordlessly, she handed off my trunk to Dad and put her arm around my shoulder as James had, but closer, rougher, more mama-bear-esque. And linked together this way, we walked out to the car.

Of course, the ride home was something of a nightmare. Finally recovered from the shock of meeting my boyfriend and his parents, Mum and Dad – and even Petunia – had a lot of questions to ask. About him, about his family, about the nature of our relationship. What did his parents do? Did he have good grades? How serious are we? How long has this been going on? There's a lot to talk about.

I did the best I could, and I don't think they're fully appeased yet, but by the time we got home they seemed to be feeling a bit better. Mostly, they were just happy to see me. The boyfriend – _James Potter! _– could wait until later.

We arrived home some large, shapeless amount of time later and I excused myself into my room, where I now lie, while Mum finished up with dinner and the table. I'm still in a whirlwind to be honest, fragments of sound and picture spinning around my head like a neural twister. Good-byes and hellos and everything in between can really wear a person out.

I think I hear Mum calling me for dinner. I think she's got something special for tonight and I look forward to being with my family again, for the first time in a long time, since Easter. I want to talk and hear about their lives and laugh my head off. I want to know what insane gossip has been filtering around the neighborhood lately. I just want to feel like me again, start making sense of this new chapter in my life. The rest of it can come later. I feel like I've just jumped off a cliff and now the rubble on the ground is starting to settle, the world becoming visible again for what it is. I'm eager to take an exploration.

She's getting impatient now. I'd better get going. I promise I'll write again soon.

Until then.

--

A/N: Wow. What a long filler. Much longer than I'd intended, but oh well. It was fun to write and I think it works. I hope you enjoyed it too.

Please review and your second-to-last chapter (eek!!) is coming up soon.


	69. I Prepare for the Big Day

A/N: The last chapter felt full and less filler-ish – which, really, I wasn't expecting when I outlined it – but this one probably will feel more like a filler. It's basically a bridge, from the end of school to the beginning of everything else. As you and I both try to wrap our brains around the fact that this story is actually almost over, we need such bridges to remind us what's going on. Plus, I got to use one of my all time FAVORITE jokes in this chapter – James tells it during dinner – and I hope you like it!

Second-to-last chapter, guys. Wow. I have to write an end-of-story speech for you next chapter! This is just absolute craziness…

_This chapter, you should listen to: _Sweet Disposition, Temper Trap.

I hope you enjoy this, though. Cheers.

--

June 20

**7:30 PM**  
_Status_: Content

You know, when I sat down to write this entry, looking at the last entry I'd written, I found myself astonished that it's only been ten days since I left Hogwarts. It's felt like a lifetime and a half that I've been at home. The days have been long, full and exhausting – each one feels like twelve years, not twelve hours. Things have been kind of insane in this house all month. I almost don't know where to start.

So I guess I'll just start here…

_Being Home_

Like after I first finished with classes for the year, I came home and I found myself with an abundance of free time and nothing to do with it. It was a strange thing, putting my things away and walking around these familiar rooms where I've grown up, no homework to do or friends to call. Me, graduated, briefly staying at home, like a guest instead of a part of the family. At first, it almost felt like I didn't belong there.

It got easier. Of course. My body – needing a good rest after the madness of the past few days – happily slept in for as long as Mum would me. I called Alice and Livvy on the phone and we chatted, exchanging stories about how our families reacted when they saw us. Alice and Frank have been practically living in each other's pockets and Livvy's mum nearly had a heart-attack when she caught sight of Sirius carrying her off the train when we came into the platform. Mrs. Harris has concluded that Livvy and Sirius are dating (which they're not) and Livvy has been trying to convince her mother they're just friends. Really.

My second afternoon back, Mum declared I was in dire need of a girl's day off, so we went to her favorite salons and got hair-cuts, manicures, pedicures and massages. I must say, I _was _in dire need of such pampering treatment – that masseuse had magical hands, I swear, and I could feel the tiredness spill out of my very bones. Plus, my nails were in terrible shape and badly needed some attention.

When I got home, Mum, Petunia and I put on a silly, girly film I hadn't seen yet and we settled in on the couch to watch, armed with ice cream and lots of fluffy pillows. When Dad came home some time later, in the evening, he caught one look at the television screen and disappeared into his study. This struck us three as so unbelievably funny, we laughed our heads through a scene and a half.

_Telling My Parents About the Order_

However, even among the moments of pure domestic bliss, there was still that unfortunate matter of breaking the news about the Order to my parents.

At the Hogwarts dance, James and I decided that we would join the Order together after Petunia's wedding; and while that's fine and dandy for us, since we know what's going on, my parents were completely in the dark about it. They had no idea that their little baby girl wanted to go join a resistance.

So, three evenings into my visit, after a hearty dinner at the restaurant around the corner, I sat my parents down in the living room and I explained my future plans to them.

Getting into it wasn't easy. I was nervous, like I was with Alice and Livvy, because I wasn't sure how they would handle this news. My heart was set on it – I knew I was going to join the Order – but my parents' opinion matters to me. It always has. And I'm not going to go around, trying to save the world, unless they know exactly what's up.

But, like with Alice and Livvy, I shouldn't have been worried – because like the two of them, my parents took the news so much better than I would've ever given them credit for.

Sure, Mum cried and Dad shook almost uncontrollably, but they concluded that I could do what I wanted and whatever I chose was fine with them. I was always welcome home if I wanted. We hugged and I realized that they trusted me, even if my life was in danger and it was very possible they could lose me forever. In the surreal, homey happiness of summer, it felt unreal, in a way, as though it was just a possibility instead of a fast-approaching reality.

_Petunia's Wedding_

Petunia's wedding is tomorrow and because of that, a good chunk of my time home has been spent trying to keep my mother sane as we attempt to keep things running smoothly. It's extraordinary how much can go wrong when you're trying to have a wedding.

Dresses haven't come into the shop yet; the limo company says they won't have a limo that night even though Mum reserved one three weeks ago; family is flying into the city from all over and constantly calling/hogging up the phone line; the caterer is trying to slip in some extra fees and claims that he wasn't.

And this afternoon, the baker called us, panicked, because the enormous, ornate, super-expensive wedding cake we had ordered for Petunia broke and he doesn't have enough time to make another one. Mum is still going hysterical downstairs – she's currently at the shop screaming and shouting and threatening to sue.

If Mum's not going mad trying to get arrangements together, she's herding me and Petunia's other bridesmaids to get fitted for our dresses. Then, when she's there supervising, Petunia will remember some other emergency and Mum will run to convince the sales-people to let her use their phone to call someone. She knows everyone's numbers off by heart by this point. Then she runs out of the shop and leaves me there with Petunia and her friends – a fate surely worse than death.

A sample conversation with me, Petunia and her friends from yesterday:

SUMMER: Oh, Petunia darling, this dress is _so _wonderful. You and your mum have _such_ good taste. The fabric is _fabulous_.

MELINA: When my sister got married, the fabric of each bridesmaid's dress _alone _cost about two thousand pounds. How much is this fabric again, Petunia?

PETUNIA: (uncomfortably) One hundred pounds. I have four bridesmaids after all.

MELINA: My sister had eight.

SUMMER: Well, anyway, I think this olive-green is _such _a stylish color.

ISABELLE: Well, Petunia, I'm sorry but I don't like these dresses. They do not bring out the shape of my body very well.

SUMMER: Don't be stupid. You look fine.

MELINA: Although your legs…

ISABELLE: (gasps)

PETUNIA: (stiffly still) You look fine, Isabelle.

ISABELLE: I'm changing! (runs away)

MELINA: So…Lily, right? I think you're the maid of honor?

ME: Yes.

MELINA: Well, then, why is your mum doing all the work? Why aren't _you_ doing anything?

ME: (testily) I just got back from boarding school. Slightly pressed for time.

MELINA: Right, right…you go to a place in…Switzerland, you said?

ME: Yes.

MELINA: Ah.

SUMMER: Ooh, are there boys there?

ME: (smirking to myself) Yes.

SUMMER: Do you have a boyfriend?!

ME: Yes.

MELINA: Oh, do you have a photo with you? I _must _see a Swiss boy.

ME: I don't have one on me.

(_Note: I actually do have a picture on me, but I didn't want bleeding Melina criticizing it and wrinkling her stupid, snotty nose up at it. The picture is actually one we took during the last few days, when we lounged about in the common room, looking for something to do with our free-time – Sirius caught one of James attempting to give me a piggy-back ride and I was screaming, almost falling off of him. It's cute, but they wouldn't understand. Plus it's moving – and I don't want to give myself away.)_

MELINA: Oh. (pause) That's too bad. I _always _have a picture of my boyfriend in my back pocket. His name is Jack.

(_She proceeds to make a big show about taking out the picture of some equally snotty-looking boy from her back pocket and showing it around. I take a look – he's not nearly as cute as __my__ boyfriend_.)

SUMMER: Your boyfriend is so _sweet_, Melly!

MELINA: I know…but I just don't think I'll be into it this year. I mean, he's just…so clingy. It's like he _always _has to be around me, and he hates it when I talk to other guys, and I'm just like, I need some freedom, you know?

SUMMER: (sympathetically) So true.

MELINA: Did I tell you about the time we went to Florence with his family, and I met that _gorgeous _Roman boy, and Jack wouldn't let me call him?

SUMMER: Oh my word! No you didn't!

(_Summer and Melina proceed to discuss Jack's outrageous behavior in Florence at the top of their loud, nasally voices. I tune out in an attempt to protect the rest of my functioning brain cells._)

Do you see what I mean? It's enough to turn you off of weddings for life.

_Dinner with the Potters_

When my parents first met James's parents, the exchange was a little less than genial. Of course. My dad already had issue with the idea of meeting one of my boyfriends; and then, when you add in the fact that this is a guy I've loathed for ages, you can see where things could seem a little sticky.

However, relations have (mercifully) eased in recent days.

Once the shock value of yes, I'm dating James Potter finally wore off (it took _me _long enough to get over) my parents were rather intrigued to hear about how he finally got to me. These were not details I cherished sharing – Mum and Dad are no Alice and Livvy – but I gave them what I could and they became interested in starting good relations with the Potters. They were the ones that actually suggested that first dinner – Dad stiffly acknowledged that being friendly with my boyfriend's family was probably a good idea – and from there, Mum invited them over. We had Potters in our house for dinner on my fourth night home.

Mercifully for all of us, Petunia had plans to have dinner with Vernon's parents that night, and the families were able to interact without the weight of my bride-to-be sister sitting in the background. And, as it turns out, Mum and Dad actually like Mr. and Mrs. Potter. They got along very well that first dinner; and despite the fact that we're going out, my parents really like James too.

It didn't hurt that he was on his best behavior – complimenting everything, smiling a lot, volunteering his quirky personal anecdotes to aid the conversation – but still. My parents were pleased and they relaxed. I think Mrs. Potter, particularly, was grateful for this.

After that first dinner, Mrs. Potter immediately said we needed to come to their home for dinner next. Mum beamed and said of course and plans were set for the next night. Mrs. Potter wrote down the address for us and Dad said he knew the area a little from having friends there. It was only a couple of hours away. Being Muggles, my parents can't really use Floo Powder, so we had to drive. Again, we made sure Petunia was safely packed away at Melina's house before we left.

Since then, we've been having dinner together almost every night. It's been very nice – sometimes they come here, sometimes we go there, or we just go out to a restaurant together. The three couples – my parents, James's parents, then me and James – always sit with each other and we look like we're triple-dating or something. But the conversation flows easily and I've gotten to know the Potters much better.

James's mum – Julie – works at Gringott's. The woman is fearless. She's cheerful about spending most of her time with goblins, doesn't mind having to ride that hideous cart all day if she has to. James is far too much like her that way. She is quite flippant about the rules and regulations set for workers at Gringott's. She says they just hold her back. But apparently, she does all right, because she's the breadwinner of the family and the goblins haven't murdered her yet.

Mr. Potter, in contrast, has a quieter job doing secretarial work at the Ministry. He's a quieter kind of person, well-read but much meeker, and when I see him interact with his wife, he's so obviously different from her that I wonder how they fell in love with each other. Maybe James looks like his father, but he is clearly his mother's son, when you spend some time with them.

Mum absolutely adores them – but she mostly adores James. She thinks he's adorable and warmed to him instantly. Even Dad thought that I could do much worse for myself than go out with James. He is everything they love in a person – charming, lively, funny, and most of all, very complimentary of his hosts. Plus, he knows some great jokes, which is always a plus.

A sample conversation from yesterday's dinner excursion:

JAMES: Have I told you guys my monk joke?

ME: No, but Sirius says it's brilliant.

MR. POTTER: I think you might have once…

MRS. POTTER: Well, _I_ don't remember.

MUM: Do tell, James!

JAMES: Sure thing. But it's kind of long. Is that okay?

DAD: Go for it.

JAMES: Okay. So, there's this guy. He's driving through the middle of nowhere – don't ask me why – and somewhere in the nothingness, his car breaks down. Bollocks. But, luckily, there is this house in the middle of this nowhere and the guy gratefully knocks on the door. A monk appears. He asks what's wrong and the guy explains about his car. The monk says he can take a look, but he definitely has to stay the night, because all the work can't be done right away. The guy agrees and goes inside; the monk shows him his room; that's that. The guy settles in to go to sleep.

However, when he's just about to slip out of consciousness, he hears this creaking sound outside his door. Immediately, he sits up and listens to it – creak, creak, creak. Mystified, he examines every inch of his room then goes to the door, wondering who is there. But when he opens it, the hallway is empty. Weird.

The guy ponders it a little further, but he figures, it's probably his exhausted imagination playing tricks. He tries to go back to sleep. But he hears that noise again – creak, creak, creak – and it's rather terrifying. Again, he checks around the room and the hallway, but there's nothing, no explanation for this mysterious noise. So he goes to bed, ignores it, and goes to sleep.

The next morning, he asks the monk about the noise. The monk shakes his head solemnly at the guy and says, "I'm sorry. I can't tell you. You're not a monk."

The guy, startled, asks again, but the answer is the same. "I'm sorry. I can't tell you. You're not a monk."

So the guy changes tack and asks about his car. When can he go home? The monk says he took a look and unfortunately, the car is beyond repair. He will have to stay here or take his chances outside, in the middle of nowhere. The guy chooses to stay.

For the next week, the guy keeps hearing those annoying creaks in his room when he's about to go to sleep. Creak, creak, creak. It's enough to drive anyone up the wall. But every time he asks, the monk keeps saying he can't explain, because the guy isn't a monk.

It becomes evident, a couple of weeks later, that the guy can't go anywhere. The monk lives in total isolation in the middle of nowhere and there's no way out. The guy just has to stay with him. And the creaking becomes so unbearable that at last, the guy announces his ambition to become a monk.

Several months of rigorous hard work and soul purification later, the guy does become a monk. And the day he is finally given the title, the first thing he asks is, "What was the creaking noise in my room every night?"

This time, the monk grins and says, "You are ready now. Go upstairs to the attic and go to the room at the very end of the hall. There, you will find a chest, and in the chest is a ruby key. Take the ruby key to the basement, at the very end of the hall, and use it to open the ruby door. There, you will find the answers to everything you have ever wanted to know."

So the guy eagerly goes upstairs and gets the key. He returns downstairs and opens the ruby door, then closes it. Inside, he stands in a room made completely out of ruby…except one emerald door. Obviously, the other key is upstairs.

Sighing, the guy opens the ruby door, closes the ruby door, and fetches the emerald key. He returns downstairs, opens the ruby door, closes the ruby door, opens the emerald door, then steps inside. Here, he stands in a room made completely out of ruby…except one silver door. Obviously, the other key is upstairs.

Sighing, the guy opens the emerald door, closes the emerald door, opens the ruby door, closes the ruby door and fetches the silver key. He returns downstairs, opens the ruby door, closes the ruby door, opens the emerald door, closes the emerald door, opens the silver door, then steps inside. Here, he stands in a room made completely out of silver…except one golden door. Obviously, the other key is upstairs.

Sighing, the guy opens the silver door, closes the silver door, opens the emerald door, closes the emerald door, opens the ruby door, closes the ruby door and fetches the silver key. He returns downstairs, opens the ruby door, closes the ruby door, opens the emerald door, closes the emerald door, opens the silver door, then steps inside. Here, he stands in a room made completely out of golden…except one crystal door. Obviously, the other key is upstairs.

Sighing, the guy opens the golden door, closes the golden door, opens the silver door, closes the silver door, opens the emerald door, closes the emerald door, opens the ruby door, closes the ruby door and fetches the _final _crystal key. He returns downstairs, opens the ruby door, closes the ruby door, opens the emerald door, closes the emerald door, opens the silver door, closes the silver door, opens the golden door, closes the golden door, opens the crystal then steps inside. Here, he stands in a room made completely out of silver…except one chest – unlocked – sitting in the corner.

The guy's heart is beating fast now. He can feel the sweat on his face, on his body. He steps towards the chest, his steps measured but determined. He so, so wants to know what's in that chest.

He kneels down in front of the chest and, with aching slowness, lifts the lid so he can peer inside. And you know what he sees?

US: (on tenterhooks) What?

JAMES: I'm sorry. I can't tell you. You're not monks.

MR. POTTER: (pretends to stab James with his knife)

MUM, DAD AND MRS. POTTER: (groan)

ME: You fool, James Potter! (I slap him on the head)

JAMES: (laughs) That's my favorite joke!

MUM: Oh, James, you really had me going there!

JAMES: (pleased) Good!

MRS. POTTER: No, I hadn't heard that one. Wherever did you get it?

JAMES: Sirius.

ME: I should've known.

JAMES: Want to hear another one?

US: NO!

At this point, we all started laughing over our dinner and Mr. Potter decided to tell us a shorter, kinder joke to change the mood. James just kept grinning, like a little kid who has done something gold star-worthy. He fit right in.

_Last Night_

Something of concern that I do want to address actually happened last night. I didn't have time then to write about it, but I do know, since it's still kind of niggling at me. It (of course) does have to do with James.

It happened after dinner. The Potters had come over and, after complimenting my mother's roast duck to the high heavens, they stepped out the back door to Apparate home. The house was quiet again and I was helping Mum with the dishes. I was still extremely red in the face because Mum had just caught James and I having a significantly extended kiss good-night by the front door – and she started giggling like a schoolgirl after they were out of earshot before disappearing into the kitchen to clean up.

The conversation went as follows:

MUM: So…Lily.

ME: So…Mum.

MUM: So you had a good time tonight?

ME: Yes, thank you.

MUM: You enjoyed the duck?

ME: Very much.

MUM: So…Lily, may I ask you a very personal question?

ME: (gut constricts in fear) Maybe.

MUM: About James.

ME: (gut constricts further) You can ask, but I can't guarantee an answer.

MUM: (coyly) Is there another wedding coming up soon, by any chance, after Petunia's?

ME: Mum!

MUM: What? It's a perfectly legitimate inquiry.

ME: (blushing) Mum, we've only been dating for three months!

MUM: You'd never be able to tell, looking at you.

ME: Well…no. We have not talked about marriage.

MUM: But would you want to? If he proposed? He is a nice boy, you know. Very nice, very handsome. And I can tell he cares a lot about you.

ME: I care about him too, Mum, but it's a high jump from being a couple to being a married couple.

MUM: I suppose. I guess I was just curious.

ME: …Please pass me the dish soap.

From here the subject drop, Mum realizing I really didn't want to talk about it, but her comments have been floating around my head ever since that conversation. Us two, marrying! Merlin, what a thought. Me, being a married woman like my sister and my mother. It's insanity. In the beginning of this year, we weren't even friends! How can a relationship leap that quickly? I mean, I know they do, but it's such a bizarre thought. Me, marrying the guy I thought I hated for years and years after dating him less than six months. I'd never live that one down.

But at the same time, even under the initial reaction of surprise and defiance, I could see (after some thought) what my mother was talking about. We _were _really into each other. He's my best friend and I love him and he knows that. I'm not sure I could see myself with anyone else anymore, because breaking up with him would kill us both and somehow, I don't think it'll happen, us wanting to move apart. We've worked too hard to come together.

Does that justify marriage, though? Does that justify my name becoming Lily Potter in a foreseeable future?

I guess I just don't know.

My stomach twists at the thought of it, me buying a white dress and putting together a wedding for myself. It makes me nervous in a way I've never been, not even when I considered getting into this relationship earlier this year.

Marriage. Who would have thought my mother would pull _that _one out of her hat?

Anyway, I don't think I want to elaborate any more on the subject. It makes me want to curl up and hide, because I don't want to think about such an adult ritual I am surely too young to participate in. I'm already joining the Order; I think marriage is pushing it. Right now, I have one to deal with, coming up tomorrow, and that's enough for me.

My sister's getting married tomorrow. It's kind of insane, after all these months of anticipation and emotion, and the big event is coming in such few countable hours. It was the same with my exams, my graduation. Big events are looming and I'm powerless to them. Like I said, it's kind of insane.

I'd better get downstairs, though. Mum is calling me for a late-evening snack of chocolate ice cream in the backyard with Petunia, to celebrate her last evening of single-hood.

I'd better go. I'll write again soon, I promise.

So…until then.

--

A/N: So that's it. We're now heading into the _very last chapter_. Give me a little while to do it – a week, week and a half – and I'll have my end-of-story speech waiting for you.

Gosh, we're really almost done. Crazy. Hope you liked it and please review!


	70. I Come to a Resolution of Sorts

A/N: So…last chapter. Oh my word. Even I can't believe we're really here. There's really not much to say. Here's the chapter, end-of-story speech is at the bottom there. I really hope you enjoy this last one. Sorry for the age and a half I took to write it – I just really wanted it to be perfect. I had to rewrite the middle about ten thousand times before I was pleased with it; but it was worth it because I think you'll like it.

_This chapter, you should listen to…_

First few paragraphs: Come On, Come Out, A Fine Frenzy  
Getting ready/pre-ceremony: Lisztomania, Fences, 1901, Rome, all by Phoenix  
Ceremony: Falling Slowly, Once movie soundtrack  
During Dance: Reasons to Love You, Meiko  
Afterward: Bookends, 500 Days of Summer soundtrack

Cheers!

--

June 21

**8:30 PM**  
_Status_: Brooding

The summer sun is setting now, high in the sky like some golden orb smoldering in some glorious fire from the heavens, spewing remnants of its light in the space around it like messy, bleeding water colors. I'm sitting in the backyard, on the patio swing I sat in so many times as a child, and I'm watching it happen, watching these vivid colors mixing and swirling and inspiring something beautiful in me, something that I can't exactly put my finger on.

Today's been a long, strange sort of day and; as I've done on many other long days this year, I think I ought to write about it.

Petunia's wedding was this afternoon. All the preparation, all the melt-downs and tantrums and tears and hours planning – it all came down to this afternoon. It took place in Vernon's stately garden – he and his family live in the nicer, exclusive side of London and have this ridiculously huge plot of land that looks like it was planted in the middle of the British scene from a fairytale, all greenery and shrubs and flowers spilling out of every orifice.

The wedding was set for twelve thirty, but we were there by eight in the morning. Vernon's parents decided they wanted everyone here in the morning so that there were no commute worries and offered us their spare bedrooms to get ready. Obviously, we took immediate use of them.

Being eight o'clock in the morning, I was barely awake, stumbling around half-dead through the halls, my voice echoing through the marble tunnel as I wondered aloud where my pantyhose was. Voices and bodies clashed as we attempted to find everything. Mum went hysterical several times, because she'd look for something, not find it, scream, and then have it turn up in some bizarre place minutes later. She spent most of her time screaming at someone or crying – she was in such a state and I wished I was more alive/coherent/honorable so I could help her out a little. She looked like she needed it – Dad had been hailed by the Dursleys to help the decorators set up and Petunia was shrieking for something or another every few seconds.

I was about to slip into my pink bridesmaid dress, but it felt odd, getting so dressed up without my best friends, primping and being silly beside me. They were obviously coming to the wedding later, but I found I didn't want to face all the preparation alone. Besides, I'm sure Mum wouldn't mind a couple of extra hands running around, getting things done. So I slipped out to borrow the telephone and I asked Alice and Livvy to come over to Vernon's place and get ready with me. Both of them said yes; and after I gave them the address, they were over within a few minutes, armed with dresses and in Alice's case, make-up.

"Hey, darling," said Alice, giving me an affectionate hug. "You okay? You looked slightly…harangued."

"That's putting it lightly," I complained, though I returned her hug and gave Livvy one too. "My mum's going mad, so all of us have to."

"It's all right," said Livvy soothingly. "We're here now. Let's get dressed – we can worry about everything else afterwards."

"Sounds good," I said gratefully. Even just hearing her tell me to calm down made me feel better, saner, more myself. "Now if only I could get into this dress…"

"Were you eating too many chocolates again?" Livvy clacked her tongue at me and came to help me squeeze into the dress, managing to zip it up and not completely cut off my circulation. "When was this sized?"

"Over Easter," I said.

"Well, you're lucky you're so damn skinny," said Livvy. "You should be obese by now – but actually, this dress is rather flattering."

"Thank goodness," I said, staring into my reflection. "I was afraid it wouldn't fit."

"We could always alter it magically," Alice reminded me as she took off her pajamas and replaced them with her dress. "But I can't guarantee success with that one."

I snorted and picked up my shoes from the corner, slipping my feet into them. "I wouldn't let either of you near my dress. I'd Apparate into town and beg someone to help me. Perhaps even bribe."

"Oi, Alice, do you have any lipstick that would look good in this?" Livvy asked Alice as she put on a pair of small pearl earrings. She looked very pretty in a knee-length red frock with a scooped neckline. "I don't want anything too bright, though."

"Try this one." Alice rooted through her bag and pulled out a tube of lipstick, tossing it to Livvy before turning her attention back to her eye-shadow.

"Thanks," said Livvy, opening it and examining the color. "Yes, this looks about right."

I crossed the room and picked up the clip Mum had made me this morning. It was basically a freshly cut pink flower from Vernon's garden taped to a tiny old clip I'd had when I was younger – she put it together in all of about three seconds, right in front of me, and stuffed it in my hands before scampering off to do something else.

"Hey, that's cute," said Livvy, noticing me putting it in my hair. "Where did you get that clip?"

"Mum," I said.

"Pretty." Livvy smiled and smacked her lips one last time to admire her lipstick. "And this color is luscious, Alice, thank you."

"It's nothing." Livvy threw the lipstick and Alice caught it, tucking it safely back in her bag. Her eye-shadow was done to perfection, as usual, and now she was applying her own lipstick. I picked up her bag and rooted through it to find a glossy pink sort of thing – I didn't want too much on my lips, but a little would be nice. Alice noticed me looking once her lipstick was done and came to help me.

"This should do," she said, steadying my head with one hand and applying the lipstick for me (without asking) with the other. "Yes, yes…lovely. You are a real beauty, Lily Evans, when you feel like it."

"I wish," I said, smacking my lips and taking another peek in the mirror. "I feel like rubbish."

"You don't look it." Alice smirked and put on her shoes. "There, done," she said, giving us a twirl so we could admire her short periwinkle dress with matching periwinkle shoes (that I must borrow some day because they are adorable). "What do you think?"

"Very nice, Alice," I said, grinning. "Honest. You look incredibly beautiful."

Alice gave me a sly smile and batted her eyelashes at me. I laughed, and I was about to say something, but Mum suddenly burst dramatically into the room, her eyes practically falling out of her face with worry.

"Lily, need you!" she said, gasping for air. "Petunia needs help with her hair and make-up, and we're short twenty chairs, so we have to run out and get some, and the food tables are defective, and we can't find Petunia's bouquet, and I'm still not ready yet—"

"Mum, breathe," I interrupted. "Alice can do hair and make-up for Petunia; Livvy can Apparate out to town for chairs and arrange some flowers from the backyard, she loves doing that; I can fix the food tables and you can get dressed."

Mum started as she realized Alice and Livvy were in the room – in her flurry, she had evidently missed their presence in the room. But she got over that quickly – she needed them and she was thrilled to have them, as Alice had predicted.

"Can you do that for me, girls?" she asked, her eyes shining.

"Sure," said Livvy. "Let me have a look at the other chairs so I can mimic it." She disappeared downstairs to do just that.

"Definitely," said Alice, beaming and picking up her make-up bag, although her smile was a little less than sincere. "I'll get right on that. Lily can tell me where the room is."

"Thank you so much," Mum said blissfully. In truth, she looked close to tears with hysteria and relief. "That would be such an enormous help."

"I'll be downstairs fixing the table, then," I said. "And I'll help Livvy with the flowers."

Mum thanked us about a thousand times more before I pushed her out the door and into what had become a temporary dressing room. I only left once she began putting on her dress – Mum is about as easily distracted as I am and I wanted to make sure she had at least half a brain on her current task before I left her – and then I went downstairs to distract Vernon's family so I could fix the table magically without witnesses.

It wasn't a tough job – being as clumsy as I am, I'm pretty good at repairing the things I break in a bad moment – so I got a jump-start on the flowers before Livvy arrived. She didn't take very long either (Alice was the one with the eternally long job), which left us plenty of time to sit together in the garden, making Petunia a new bouquet.

As Livvy put the roses we'd picked in color order on her lap, she sighed a mournful, shallow sort of sigh.

"I just love weddings," she said. "It's such a…I dunno, a pure thing. A man and a woman, giving themselves to each other and promising to love one another for the rest of their lives."

"Sadly, it doesn't always stay that way," I pointed out, gathering some white flower I don't know the name of to balance all the pink. "Weddings are the fun part. The marriage is what you have to work at."

"I know…but I still love that fun beginning part," said Livvy. "It's like the start of an adventure, the start of bigger things yet to come."

"I'm not entirely sure Petunia's wedding will feel that way," I said, rolling my eyes. "Vernon has all the romance of an egg-salad sandwich. I don't know how on earth my sister – a girl I always thought was clever – chose him."

"That's not always for you to understand," Livvy countered. "Their relationship is theirs. Maybe Vernon is very romantic when he's around Petunia."

I snorted. "The closest Vernon gets to openly loving another is when he smothers his toast with jam every morning at breakfast."

Livvy paused, both with breath and with her flower arranging, and I looked up to make sure she was all right. She had a very fragile look on her face, like she was this close to bursting into tears, right here and now, with all the lovely make-up Alice had helped her with.

Part of me wanted to ask if she was all right, but another more rational part of me shut that other part up, knowing as it somehow did that Livvy would tell me in a moment or two.

And she did.

"Russ and I talked about getting married sometimes," she said, so quietly I had to lean in a little to hear her. "At night, when we'd cuddle and just talk about things, he would ask me if I'd still love him enough to marry him when we were done with school. I told him I couldn't imagine spending my life with anyone else. We'd make wedding plans, honeymoon plans…the whole lot of it. And I always thought…you know, maybe we could get married in the next couple of years, live together for the rest of our lives."

Livvy was very close to tears, sitting there with those flowers, in her beautiful red dress. I was kind of at a loss for words, unsure of how to respond to this.

Putting my hand on her knee, then, I said, "Well…if it's too difficult for you to be here today, I'll understand."

"I'd feel horrible no matter where I am, so I figure, I might as well stay with my best friends," said Livvy, sniffling and tucking her hair back. "I'm sorry, I'm being a little silly, I know…"

"You're not silly," I said firmly. "You two loved each other and I can understand that. It's only been a month or so and you've been extraordinarily brave."

Livvy shook her head, chuckling softly. "I've been a lot of things, but I've never been brave," she said. "Not like you or Alice. For that month or so, I've been lonely and miserable and grateful and confused. I've been selfish, resenting you and Alice sometimes, because you have your wonderful relationships and you're happy when I can't be. I've cried myself to sleep more nights than I'd like to count. It's all I can do to get out of bed every morning. Everyone asks me how I feel and I say I feel fine, but I'm a mess and I don't remember how not to be. I'm here, but that's all. I'm not brave. I'm never going to get over Russ."

"Livvy, if you need someone to keep you company, you can always call me or just Apparate over," I told her, my voice quivering slightly. "And it's…perfectly normal to hate anyone in a relationship. I don't love you any less for it. And…the fact that you're here is commendable. Being brave doesn't mean you're perfect and okay and over it. It just means…it means that you're trying. That's all any of us can ask of you."

Livvy looked at me, her brown eyes large and shiny, her gaze unwavering. "I don't know what to do with myself, Lily," she said.

"None of us do," I said. "With the Order and all this, I feel like I'm going through a roundabout, never sure if I should get out now or keep running around in circles. Add in the fact that you've lost Russell…of course you feel out of it. But it's okay. I do believe you're going to figure it out – that you're going to be fine."

"I can't seem to stop crying long enough to consider that," said Livvy wryly.

"I've heard crying is the body's natural process for getting rid of hormones related to stressful emotion," I offered. "Crying can be a good thing. Get it out of you, you know?"

Livvy's lower lip trembled, but tears didn't come.

"No," she said. "Today's a happy day, a unity for two people who are committed to each other and want to remain so forever. I don't particularly want to cry today."

"Sounds good." I kept my voice gentle, passive, leaving her room to speak if she needed it, but she didn't. She wiped her eyes – carefully, so as not to smudge her eye make-up – and continued arranging flowers, like nothing had ever happened even though we both knew it had. And, tentatively, carefully, I let myself fall back into our task as well, asking Livvy's opinion on certain flowers and giving her my opinion on the ones she'd already ordered.

Roughly twenty minutes later, the bouquet was ready and Livvy disappeared into the house to give them to Mum. It was already nine thirty and the morning seemed to be an unusually cooperative one – all sunny skies, no clouds to speak of, just the slightest bit of playful wind.

The backyard was shaping up quite nicely as well, with all the white furniture, the chairs Livvy had secretly cloned when no one was looking, the refreshments coming in and being placed on the table by waiters dressed in black and white. The cake was sitting in the kitchen, immaculate and beautiful – and free of charge, after what they did to the first one and the fuss Mum threw.

Small tables with small vases of flowers were set all around the extraordinarily emerald grass, around the white aisle Petunia would seen be walking down, with the idea that people could sit at their tables, watch the ceremony, and then eat. Some ways away from this, a large plastic sheet for people to dance on was set up. The band was due at noon to set up and perform.

Much of the morning passed in a blur from that point, a blur of white and pink and flowers and Mum screaming. Alice, Livvy and I were herded all over the Dursley's property, doing something or another, and we were tired out by the end of it, even with magic. We had to distribute glasses and napkins and plates and goodness-knows-what-else to every table; we had to help trim the already-trimmed bushes; we had to help mop up the bottle of nail-polish Petunia spilled and calm her down when she knocked over the bleach Mr. and Mrs. Dursley brought in and cried.

And, if that wasn't bad enough, we were given the wonderful job of entertaining Melina, Summer, and Isabelle – Petunia's other bridesmaids – when they arrived on the scene at noon.

"You couldn't get me something to drink, could you, Lily?" Melina asked me haughtily. "I'm parched!"

"Ooh, yes! Do you have fresh India tea with two spoons sugar and just a dash of skim milk?" Summer asked eagerly. "That would be lovely!"

Summer wasn't as unbearable as Melina (the bitch) or Isabelle (the anxious princess) but she did have her moments.

"I could do with a nice, freshly-squeezed lemonade with four spoons sugar," said Isabelle.

"Same for me, but only three spoons sugar," Melina said. "I'm watching my weight."

"Sorry, but all I can offer you is strawberry punch or a soda," I said testily. "And they're all on the table over there."

"It's been a long journey over here," Melina declared. "Amy had the chauffeur today, so I had to drive here myself. I can't possibly cross the entire garden to get drinks."

"I've been getting ready for this wedding all day—" I began heatedly, but fortunately, Livvy chose this moment to ask me to have a final check on the bouquet and I had to leave. Melina huffed irritably, but ended up making Isabelle get the drinks by saying the exercise would do her good. I swear, Isabelle will become an anorexic, the way Melina makes cracks at her (extremely skinny) figure.

"Thanks for that," I said to Livvy once we were safely on another side of the garden. Both of us knew perfectly well Petunia already had her bouquet and was very pleased with it. "I was ready to hex her."

"Don't mind her," Livvy said. "C'mon. Alice says it's already ten past noon and we ought to be ready to start greeting guests."

"I'm sweating like a hog," I complained. "Look at me!"

"You look beautiful," said Livvy sweetly. "Stop worrying."

I sighed, but I knew it was no good saying anything else, so we began making our way back up to the house. Guests were expected to come to the front door, take a drink, walk through the long route to the back door so they could admire the Dursley's home (which was admittedly gorgeous) and then wander out to the yard, where they could sit and nibble on appetizers. Mum and Dad want me, as Sister of the Bride, to join them and the Dursley parents for welcoming duty. Lucky, lucky me.

Livvy walked with me to the house, giving me her silent moral support, but once we got there, Mum swooped down upon us, whisked me away, and told Livvy to find Alice and relax after all her help. Livvy obediently disappeared and left me there with the four parents – and the dull work began.

Since the Dursleys are rich and influential, they have about a million friends/acquaintances/family members, and pretty much all of them have been invited to the wedding. They all file through the house and I'm expected to smile mechanically and offer to fetch them a drink. Most of the time, they do make me get them one. It's a dreadfully boring job – plus, it makes my cheek muscles ache – but I'm forced to do it…

…until a torturous twenty minutes later, a group of familiar faces show up.

I didn't notice them at first, so busy was I trying not to spill champagne on my dress as I poured my hundredth glass that afternoon. But then I heard a familiar voice say, "Lily? Is that you?"

I turned on instinct (mercifully, I did not spill any champagne in the process) and there, I saw the Marauders (minus James) and Frank standing before me in matching tuxedos, grinning away at me. It was Sirius who had spoken. The anvil in my stomach that had been steadily growing that day suddenly lifted and flew away. I put the glasses down on the counter, forgetting them instantly, and ran forward to greet them all.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're here," I said, hugging each boy in turn. "You're not going to make me get you champagne, are you?"

"It doesn't sound half-bad," Sirius said mockingly, his eyes glittering with mischief.

"If I had something non-breakable to smack you with, I would," I said, though I didn't sound convincing with that huge smile on my face. "Get your own damn champagne. It's out in the backyard."

"Where's Alice?" Frank asked.

"She's outside in the backyard as well, likely with the champagne," I said. "You'll have to go find her, I'm afraid. I haven't seen her for about an hour."

"Right-o," said Frank. "I might get some of that champagne while I'm at it…"

"Do you mind fetching some for me, old boy?" Sirius inquired.

Frank rolled his eyes and this was answer enough. Sirius mumbled something about bad friends, but went outside with Frank for a drink, maybe also to find Livvy. Peter, also interested in the talk of champagne, followed them out, leaving me alone with Remus.

"Hey," I said. "How are you?"

"All right," said Remus amiably. "It was a project getting out of the house, though, so I hope you don't mind that we're not exactly on time."

"It's fine," I said, smirking. "I feel your pain. My place has been a bit of a madhouse as well. Where are you all camping out right now? And where is James?"

"I knew you'd ask," said Remus with a smirk to match mine. "As it happens, he got held up at home – his mum needed him to do something for her before he came to the wedding. We had to Apparate here without him. We're all at Sirius's place at the moment. I'm sure James told you – Sirius's uncle died a while back and left him a bit of gold and a house, so we've ditched our parents to be there. Well, except James…he's sorting out his affairs at home before joining us."

"Sounds like me, then – we're all in transition," I said. "Livvy's mum has some contacts in real estate, and they're trying to help me and the girls out, but we haven't exactly gone flat-hunting yet. Or job-hunting."

"We don't have jobs yet either," said Remus, laughing. "Well, I mean, unless you count me and Peter bagging groceries at Tesco. It pays a pittance, but it's better than nothing. Barely."

"I assume you have bigger aspirations than bagging groceries," I said, grinning.

"Of course," said Remus reasonably. "But the more I think about it, the more I think I'm just going to work for the Order full time. I don't really know what else I want to do."

Something in my stomach knotted and cooled several degrees in temperature, but I fought to keep my face clear of this turbulence.

"I always had an interest in Healing, and I may pursue it later, but I'm not entirely sure at the moment," I said. "It depends on what the Order wants me to do."

Remus shrugged. "That's the only thing that bothers me about joining the Order – I hate having so many factors in my life dependent on one thing."

"My life has always worked out that way," I said wryly.

Remus smiled. "I find that difficult to believe. You've always been quite resilient – lots of things keeping you busy."

I snorted loudly before I could stop myself, the déjà vu too much for my limited self-control to handle. "Why do people always think I'm resilient? I have never understood it. I'm…well, I'm not completely hopeless, but I wouldn't go so far as to call it _resilient_."

Remus shrugged. "You should give yourself more credit than that. You're quite extraordinary, you know."

"Where are you when I'm having one of my I-can't-do-anything-and-my-life-is-pointless chocolate binges?" I asked, smiling wryly.

"We all have those kinds of moments," he said, "but come on. You were top of our year, you were the Head Girl, you've single-handedly tamed my best friend and made him one of the happiest people in the world, and you somehow got Livvy through one of the worst periods of her life. I think it's extraordinary."

"I've had help," I pointed out.

"Everyone does," said Remus calmly. "But that doesn't demean what you do."

I stared at him for several seconds, just stared at him, and he stared back at me with that way he has – like he's x-raying you or something, able to look into your very soul without requiring your permission.

"Thanks, Remus," I eventually said, a smile working its way into my mouth. "It means a lot to me."

Remus shrugged again, a smile on his mouth too. "There's no need to thank me," he said.

"Well…I dunno, I just like knowing that we respect each other," I said. "I've always thought you were the calmest, most rational and sensitive out of the group – what you think of me matters. It always has."

Remus chuckled. "Well…in case you were worried, I've never had any complaints," he assured me.

"Good," I said genuinely. "So…do you want to sample some of that famous champagne outside?"

"Sure," said Remus.

Together, we walked out of the house into the garden. Behind me, I shouted out to Mum that I was done welcoming guests. I'm not sure she even heard me, but I'm sure she didn't miss me regardless. Hardly half of the people I did welcome even noticed me at all, even if I was getting them drinks. Besides, I _was _entertaining the guests and helping the ceremony run smoothly – that had to count for something, didn't it?

By the time we were supplied with drinks and some of the butterflies taking a wild excursion through my abdominal region were calmed, we found that Livvy, Frank, Sirius, Alice, and Peter had already found their table. Mum and I had made up a seating chart for every table (talk about another bloody boring job) and I had made sure we eight had our own table, somewhat near the aisle so I could make a quick escape to and from my position as a bridesmaid. Sirius was already doing much of my entertaining for me, telling us all a funny story about the day his favorite aunt, Andromeda, got married. Apparently, someone's wand malfunctioned and turned her hair bright blue, and she got married that way, finding it quite amusing. I laughed along, blissful to be back in the company of our little group. We hadn't all been together since Hogwarts, after all.

However, several minutes later, as Sirius began telling us the punch-line of some other joke, I heard someone call my name from across the yard.

"Lily?"

My head whipped back by instinct and at once, I smiled.

James had finally made it to the wedding; and Merlin was I glad to see him.

I waved to him and began getting up out of my seat, trying not to tear my dress or knock something over on the table. Noticing this, Peter looked in the direction my eyes were in, and caught sight of James. He groaned.

"Yeah, figures he'd say _your _name instead of any of ours," said Peter, shaking his head. "I swear…"

"He spent years chasing her," Alice pointed out. "Let him have his fun."

"I remember the good old days, when she used to run away if dear old Jamie called her name," said Sirius remiscently. "Those were the days…"

I blushed and stuck my tongue at them both. They stuck theirs out at me in return, but by then, I was already stumbling through the grass towards James. He opened his arms wide to accept me; and when I tripped on my heel two paces away from him, he managed to catch me before I hit the ground.

"Hey," he said, grinning as he helped me to my feet, hazel eyes twinkling with mischief behind his glasses. "How are you, Lils?"

"Just fine," I panted, smoothing out my dress and checking my heel to make sure it wasn't broken. "You?"

"Mum was making some kind of cheesecake at home and decided she needed company," said James, chuckling. "I haven't the faintest idea how to cook, even with magic, so she decided to give me a crash course instead of letting me come here."

"It's okay," I said. "I love the tuxedo, by the way."

"And I love your dress." He grinned. "Pink is a nice color on you."

"I kept telling Petunia I couldn't pull off pink with this hair of mine, but of course she never listens to me," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Well, _I _think you look beautiful." He leaned in to kiss me, but I pulled my head back before he could.

"Sorry," I said. "You can't kiss me today. Alice will murder me _and _you if she finds you've done something to disturb the lipstick job she did for me this morning."

"Why do you even need lipstick?" James asked. "It's so fake-looking – and it makes you taste bad."

I couldn't help myself – I laughed aloud. "What? Do explain."

"Well, you have a certain taste when I kiss you, and lipstick screws it up," he said matter-of-factly, without the slightest bit of embarrassment. "Besides, your mouth is far too pretty for that gunk. Take it off, won't you?"

Charmed as I was, I knew Alice would be irritated, so I said, "It's my sister's wedding and I had to get dressed up. The lipstick stays."

James stared at me ponderously for several seconds, as though wondering how to respond to this. I crossed my arms and arched my eyebrow challengingly at him, daring him to do something about the situation.

Then, without warning, he launched himself at me and caught me in a kiss.

"Stop it!" I tried to push him off of me, but of course Mr. Quidditch Athlete Buff-pants overpowered me and held both my wrists in his one hand, securing them behind my back, and using his other hand to gently move my hair out of my face.

I wriggled as much as I could, but come on. I'm a soft little marshmallow compared to James Potter and we both know it. So I gave in and let him kiss me, long and luscious, right there in the middle of the backyard.

When he was satisfied, James let go of my hands and broke the kiss, grinning evilly at me. My lipstick had successfully been removed from my mouth and I pretended to smack him.

"If Alice asks, it's all your fault," I said.

"Like she could take _me_," he scoffed.

"You'd be surprised," I told him, smirking. "Now come on. Your friends want to see you."

"I've seen them every single day since graduation, Lily," James reminded me. "I think they're going to be fine if I take my time walking over there."

"Whatever," I said.

He took my hand in his, squeezed it tightly, and together we made our way back to the table. James was hailed by his friends (who, obviously, acted like they hadn't seen him in years and years) and he laughed as he plopped down in his chair between Sirius and Frank. Alice teased me about having withdrawal since I wasn't sitting by my boyfriend, but I ignored her and conversation started up again, as James described the experience he had making cheesecake with his mum.

We laughed until we cried, making us three girls grateful we had used waterproof eye make-up that morning. Upon noticing our make-up, then, Alice obviously got irritated by the fact that I was no longer wearing lipstick and threatened to hex James from under the table, where no one could see her. Remus and I immediately went into moderator mode, and we managed to get them to agree to a footsie fight under the table – which Alice won by shoving her shoe's heel into James's shin – and the argument was resolved. Somewhat.

Our careless joy continued on for quite some time, just talking and giggling and making bets and bribing Sirius to get us more champagne. I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt so free, or I'd laughed so loud, or I'd smiled so much. My cheek muscles ached like they had inside, when I'd been welcoming, but it was a million times better out here, among the people I loved, enjoying their company and groaning when Peter tried to sing some rubbish song out of tune.

However, the fun came to a halt as Mum hobbled out into the yard, wearing her fancy heels, and put her hand on my shoulder. Her eyes glistened with tears and the pungent scent of too much perfume filled my nose.

"Darling, it's time," she whispered in my ear.

"Okay," I whispered back, feeling my gut constrict just a little bit. "Give me a minute. Where do you want me to meet you?"

"Back sun-room," Mum replied.

"Right," I said. "Go, I'm coming."

Mum nodded and scuttled back out, her red hair – even brighter than mine – visible in the distance, almost as though her head was on fire. I felt for her, trying to organize this whole monstrous event practically all by herself. I gave my friends a significant look – they understood what was going on here – and I got up to follow my mother into the house, my heart pounding away in my chest.

When I reached the back sun-room, as ordered, most of the procession was there already. Mum was fussing around with the line-up, trying to pair up Vernon's groomsmen with Petunia's bridesmaids without having someone complain. When she saw me, she seized my wrist, handed me the ring Petunia had picked out for Vernon (I had to give it to her at the altar, since I was her maid of honor) and she forced me at the end of the line with some horrifically smug-looking guy that I can only assume is the best man. He looked pleased to be walking beside me and I find myself wanting to vomit.

As Mum becomes distracted trying to get the line-up together, tell the first bridesmaid/groomsman couple the signal to come out, and scuttle out to her seat at the front table, Mr. Best Man decided to initiate conversation with me.

"Well, hello there," he said smoothly.

"Hi." I didn't want to answer, but I also didn't want to be rude. This was my compromise.

"I don't think I've ever seen you before," said Mr. Best Man.

I managed a tight-lipped smile, but that was all. Mr. Best Man was a lot like the groom – a little on the plumper side of life, with a rather large jowl hanging down from his chin – and looking at him was not exactly an enjoyable experience.

"So…what's your name, love?" he asked.

"Lily," I said.

"Well, now, that's a pretty name," crooned Mr. Best Man. "Pretty name for a pretty girl. Have you got a boyfriend, Lily?"

"I do," I said. Honestly, I was just trying not to burst out laughing – or murder him.

"That's unfortunate," said Mr. Best Man. "Maybe you'd like to get a drink once the procession's over?"

"No, thank you," I said.

"Are you quite sure?"

Only now did I turn to look at Mr. Best Man, hideous jowl and all. He looked like a future member of Parliament. I narrowed my eyes at him, gave him my most obnoxious glare, and said, "Look. I've already told you I have a boyfriend. If you don't stop bothering me, wedding or not, I will kick you in the balls with these sharp heels and it will hurt like hell. I'd suggest you shut up and make this as painless as possible for us both. Understood?"

Mr. Best Man, at the mention of his precious balls, immediately stiffened and, pouting like a little kid, said, "As you wish, Lily."

"Good," I said curtly. "Now, c'mon. Mum gave the signal and we're supposed to go out. Smile."

Mr. Best Man grimaced at me, but there was not much else he could do. The procession line was moving. The priest and groom were already outside, waiting – the priest looking stately and statue-esque, Vernon looking smug – and since we had no flower girl, the flowers were already spread and all we had to do was walk out and take our places. We'd practiced this at some point, over the long, shapeless, wedding-filled days, and I remembered that I was supposed to stand closest to Petunia, as her sister and maid of honor.

The sunshine was bright and utterly un-English as we made our way out of the house and into the backyard. The band was playing some familiar procession tune I didn't actually know the name of. People turned to stare as we made our way down the aisle. I saw Mum crying quietly into her handkerchief – alone, because Dad was waiting inside with Petunia, since it was his job to lead her down the aisle and give her away. My friends gave me encouraging smiles from their table and I felt their support like a warm hug inside of me. I put on my best my-sister-is-getting-married-and-I'm-so-glad-for-her smile, tried to forget Mr. Best Man's arm linked with mine, and concentrated on trying not to slip and fall.

Nothing could go wrong today; my clumsiness could not ruin one of the most important days in Petunia's life.

After what felt like an age and a half, I finally made it to the altar, where I stood in my assigned spot and waited for the bride. The band made a dramatic pause in the music (a cue to tell Dad and Petunia to start walking out of the house) and then, almost all of a sudden, the bride and her father appeared.

Petunia looked radiant – so young and beautiful – in her white dress, her veil set in her dark hair, so much like Dad's. Her smile could've lit up the country on its own. Despite the fact that Vernon was the one waiting for her on the other side of the aisle, she was happy, happier than she'd ever been, and I melted a little for her.

Maybe I hated Vernon with every fiber of my being, but Petunia didn't, and I guess that's what marriage is about – honoring the fact that two people meant for one another, no one else, have found each other.

Dad brought Petunia to the end of the aisle, gave her a kiss on the cheek, whispered something in her ear, and sat in his seat by Mum. Mum's tears were flowing freely and he held her hand, holding her protectively against his chest, tears glistening in his eyes too. I'm sure they were remembering the day they did all this themselves – standing there at the altar, teeming with excitement, ready to make their vows and be together forever.

Standing beside my sister, her energy practically radiating off of her, I felt tears in my eyes too. Tuney, my big sister, the one who played with me and brushed my hair and yelled at me for borrowing her clothes, was really getting married. She was going to be Vernon's wife and she was going to move in with him and start a new life with him, a life that likely wouldn't include me. Dad really was giving her away today. And for the second time in a few hours, I thanked Alice for having water-proof make-up.

Finally, though, after a bit of prattling, the priest asked the big questions we'd been waiting months and months to hear:

"Vernon Dursley, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"

"I do," said Vernon. His smug grin had somehow evaporated from his face, leaving him serious, as he took the little ring in Mr. Best Man's hand and slipped it on Petunia's finger.

"And do you, Petunia Evans, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"

"I do," said Petunia. Her voice was wobbly, her fingers shaky, with nervousness in her body, but she took the ring from my hand and slipped it on Vernon's finger.

The priest smiled at the two of them, almost affectionately, like a wiser grandfather.

"All right," he said. "Vernon and Petunia, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Vernon, you may kiss the bride."

The millions of guests sitting around the backyard exploded into applause (and Mum into a fresh wave of hysterics) as Vernon and Petunia kissed on the altar. I found myself bawling right along with Mum and I was glad when I could escape back to my friends, where I could cry in peace. My companions were, to put it lightly, bewildered by my tears.

"Oh, Lily, darling, what's wrong?" asked Alice, hugging me and stroking my hair. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, yeah," I sniffled, blowing my nose disgustingly in the tissue Remus silently handed me from over Alice's head. "Just…I don't even know."

Alice kept hugging me and asked Remus for another tissue, which she used to wipe my face. "Aww, it's all right, I understand," she said, although I'm pretty sure she didn't. "Now come along, there's a good girl. Stop crying."

"I'm not five years old, Alice," I said, half-laughing through my tears and hiccups. "Let me be."

"I just want to make sure you're stable," said Alice. "Livvy's been crying her eyes out the whole time as well."

"Has she really?" I softened at the sound of this. "Where is she?"

"She went to the bathroom to wash up – she's a complete wreck," said Alice. "Sirius went with her. And James went for champagne, before you ask – and Frank went with him." She looked vaguely irritated by this last part.

"I've never understood why people cry at weddings," said Peter conversationally. "I mean, it's just a wedding. Someone's getting married. What's there to cry about?"

"It's an emotional thing," I said. "She's my older sister, Peter. She and I grew up together. Now she's got a new family. She's ready to move on without me."

"Just because you guys don't live in the same house, doesn't mean you're not sisters," said Remus fairly.

"She's living with her husband from now on," I said flatly. "And…well, we haven't been close in years, so I highly doubt she'll bother keeping in touch."

Remus opened his mouth to counter, but at this exact moment, Frank and James returned from the champagne table, holding their glasses and grinning. Frank went to sit beside Alice and James came to sit beside me. In one glance at my extremely pink, tear-stained face, he somehow understood all the emotion currently dwelling in my gut and held my hand, letting me know without words that he was there for me.

"Hey," he said in an undertone. "You want some champagne?"

"Yes, please." Gratefully, I took his champagne glass and sipped some of it, trying to let the bubbles in the drink ease some of my anxiety. "Thanks."

"No problem," he said, smiling.

Alice, however, groaned loudly.

"Oh, would you believe it?" she grouched.

"What?" I asked, interested.

"Sirius keeps declaring champagne is the answer to all of life's problems and now I can see that he's right!" said Alice, rolling her eyes irritably. "Damn that Sirius."

The table laughed, thoroughly amused. James appeared ready to make another crack about champagne, his hand still holding mine protectively, when Mum suddenly appeared, still quite pink from all her crying.

"Hello, everyone," she said, smiling weakly and waving.

"Hello, Mrs. Evans," said Remus, pleasant as ever.

"Everything looks great – and the food's good," Frank volunteered.

"Thank you," said Mum, utterly pleased. "Erm…Lily, may I have a word?"

"Sure." I gave James's hand a last squeeze and got up to speak to my mother. She backed up a couple of paces and took a breath.

"Right," she said. "Well, Petunia and Vernon are going to have their first dance as a couple now. They're going to dance alone on the floor for a bit – then Petunia wants everyone else to join in with her. Could you and your friends lead that for me? You know, step on the floor and dance once Dad and I go out?"

"Of course, Mum," I said, smiling. "Let me herd them all to the dance floor – start the band and we'll be right there."

"Thank you." Mum's lower lip trembled with joy and she looked like she might burst into tears all over again. "Oh, Lily, your mummy is a right old wreck, isn't she?"

"It's all right," I assured her, smiling back and feeling my own tears surfacing just a little bit. "I think I can forgive you."

Mum gave me a warm hug and a peck on the cheek. "Thank you. Let me get Petunia ready. Hurry out please?"

"Of course."

Mum gave me one last, fond look before disappearing into the crowd of wedding guests, barking something at the band and sweetly ushering people towards the dance floor. I, in turn, returned to my friends and told them they were expected to dance – and fill Livvy and Sirius in on this when they returned from the bathroom. James smiled at me and we held hands again as we stood on the fringes of the crowd watching the dance.

It was a beautiful thing to see, if I'm honest. The band played something tenderly, achingly lovely, perfect for a couple just married a few minutes ago. Petunia, in her white dress, and Vernon, in his obviously expensive suit, held each other and danced, like they were in a place and time far away from here, sharing their own secrets.

Again, I loathe Vernon, and I don't believe he's anywhere near good enough for my sister, but she looked like she would rather die than be anywhere he wasn't. She looked like she was having the time of her life, dancing with him, and they were untouched in their innocence, twirling around the dance floor as though it was theirs and only theirs.

Twenty seconds later, Mum and Dad, in their parent-appropriate finery, stepped out and began to dance as well. They danced with surrender, with sadness, realizing that their oldest daughter was no longer theirs to protect and nurture. They had to let her go. Dad smiled down at his wife of twenty four years, his face full of love. Mum looked like she wanted to cry again, but she didn't – she held herself together – and she danced with more grace than a woman a decade younger than she.

This was obviously the cue for me, the sister of the bride, to come in and I did. James's sweaty hand linked with mine, we wordlessly got into our waltz position, his hand on my waist and mine on his shoulder, and we danced, losing ourselves in the music, in the magic of the moment.

Our friends came in after us – Alice with Frank, then Livvy escorted by Sirius, Remus with a cousin of mine and Peter with some girl on Vernon's side of the family – and gradually, others came too, pairing up and making the floor theirs. Couples and more couples, celebrating their lives together, filled that stately backyard and we just danced, swept away by it all.

However, as the climax of the song swelled, filling the air with its splendor, we opened conversation.

"So…today's it, huh?" said James. "Today's the day of the big wedding that you were so freaked out about."

"It is," I said with a sigh. "Petunia's wedding day. I still can't seem to wrap my head around the fact that it's actually here."

"Well…it is," he said. "And you're handling it well. It can't be easy, watching your sister sort of walk away from you."

I could only shrug. "She loves him," I said simply. "If he can make her happy – somehow – she deserves him."

James paused, seeming to weigh options out very quickly in his head.

"This could be us someday, you know," he said shyly, quietly.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean…all of this," said James, going the slightest bit pink. "The dancing, the champagne, the crap food. It…well…we could be next."

I paused as well, processing this remark, spoken so gently that the words were almost lost in the whirl of the dancers.

Then—

"Are you asking me to marry you?" I blurted out, in my usual boorish, insensitive way.

Instantly, James went cherry-red and I joined him, embarrassed by my own idiocy.

"Well…no, not formally," said James, smiling. "But…I dunno. It's an option we should…you know…keep open."

I went even redder at this, if it was possible. That night with my mother in the kitchen loomed suddenly in my mind – her amused expression, her girlish assumptions. Merlin, what a sense of déjà vu _that_ was.

"So…you're saying that you maybe want to marry me," I said.

"I know how you are about commitment," he said respectfully. "I know that it frightens you and that you need a lot of time to think about something before you get into it. I am perfectly fine with that. But…well…if you want my two cents, I think we should get married some time. I can't really see myself with anyone but you."

I continued to blush, probably looking infected by now. "I'm your schoolboy crush of three years," I said gently. "And we're only eighteen."

"I know," he said. "I'm not saying we should do anything right away. But it's something we should talk about, you know? I mean, we love each other. You make me happy and I don't ever want to think about a day when you're not with me, when I can't touch you or talk to you or kiss you."

"That's so funny to think about," I remarked. "Me, the sheltered workaholic, with you, the messy trouble-maker. Who'd have known?"

"I knew," he said softly.

I pursed my lipstick-less lips and smiled at him, taking in every bit of that lovely face I knew so well – his long eyelashes, the full lips and lovely bone structure, the hazel eyes that can twist my arm and make me do anything he wants. I pulled him in closer to me and the smell of him – grass, coffee, and something indescribably sweet – filled me up, made me light and weightless, like I could fly away if I wasn't careful.

"And now I do too," I replied in his ear.

The music played on around us, people dancing and talking and writing more lines for their own love stories, but from here, I lay my cheek on James's shoulder, wrapping my arms around his neck and letting him hold me, not really dancing anymore but rotating slowly on the spot, removed from our world.

Everything about us – the sadness, the sweetness, the happiness, and everything in-between – seemed to overlap, natural like two blades of grass blowing together in the breeze. We weren't him and her – we were us, close and together in all the ways that counted.

Maybe Mum and James had marriage on the brain, but I didn't. In my opinion, marriage has always been something elusive, something larger than him or me. It's a rite of passage into a new kind of lifestyle – it's sacred and beautiful and something you can't do on a whim and expect to get right.

It's something you do when you _know_, know deep in your bones, that it's the logical next step; when there really aren't any reasons to say no.

I love James, I really do, but I'm not ready to commit to him that way. We've only been dating three months. We're close, yes; and we know each other, yes; and we have more than what most couples do after four months, yes; but for me, that's not going to cut it. I love him, and our relationship has solid foundations on respect and understanding, but it's young. We're young.

And I am, first and foremost, an emotional prude. I'm going to wait a little while before I dive into this one.

I think that makes sense now, to us both. As we stood on the dance floor together, wrapped up in each other, we knew we were going to be together in some way, some shape, whether or not we married later along the line – because as he had said, I couldn't imagine a day when he's not with me.

There's not much left to say, from that point on. Eventually, the dancing stopped, the cake was cut, the food was eaten and the bouquet was thrown. Alice ended up catching it. Then, as the party began to wind down and guests began to leave, I was separated from my friends, who had to go home as well. We all hugged and said good-bye, promising to see each other again soon. Sirius proposed an outing in London some time soon; James proposed a double-date with Alice and Frank in two days. We'll owl, call, whatever. Somehow, we will get in touch with one another and arrange something.

The sun was still high in the sky, high like afternoon, when Mum, Dad and I drove home. Petunia and Vernon were off in Vernon's car, after long and tearful parting embraces from my parents. I was their only child left in the car and much of the trip was silent, somehow trying to take in what had happened, the rift that we had all been expecting but now had to deal with. Petunia had officially become Vernon's wife and he had officially become her primary care-giver. She was in a new stage of her life and my parents didn't know how this part was supposed to go. Their hesitancy was almost tangible in the small, claustrophobic air of our little car.

We reached home as the sun was beginning to droop a little. Vernon's mansion isn't _that _far from the house, but Dad drove slow, seeming to be in his own world. We got out of the car and went into our tiny home, unlocking the familiar front door and walking down the familiar opening corridor. It somehow felt very empty, knowing Petunia wouldn't be sharing it for the foreseeable future.

Mum immediately declared the need for a nap and retired upstairs, still wearing the beautiful dress she'd bought for the wedding, still wearing her make-up from this morning. Dad, sensing that company was what she really needed, disappeared upstairs with her. And I, unusually somber, plucked my diary out of my bedside table drawer and brought it out here, to the yard, to the swing, where I sit now.

The light is fading now, evening blue starting to push down on the bright cerulean. The last flares of vivid orange light still linger near the horizon, like a dying wish. The swing creaks slightly on the left side, as it always has since we bought it, and I feel fragile somehow, as though if I breathe too hard or move too fast, everything will combust and leave me in the ashes.

I'm fully aware that this night is more than Petunia's wedding night. It's the final gateway, the final obstacle between me and The Rest of my Life. Just before he left with his friends, James whispered in my ear that he would come over some time in the afternoon to write the letter to Dumbledore, the one telling him we're going to join the Order. Alice, Livvy, and the boys all know – they're going to be sending their own membership letters soon enough – and we eight, we now-inseparable eight, will go wherever the Order wants us to go.

We'll find flats, support ourselves financially the best we can, definitely sharing the rent. We'll figure everything out. We'll be adults; we'll try to save the world. We'll support each other emotionally too.

Everyone has to grow up some time; and for better or worse, my age of innocence has ended. This world is big and cold and terrifying, but I'm as well-equipped as I will ever be. I have friends; I have my family; I've got ways to cope. I've also got a double-date in two days.

Maybe everything's not completely okay, with a war going on, but it's as close to okay as it will ever be.

I'm going to tell Mum and Dad tomorrow, about the letter. I want to give them some notice before their last baby bird leaves the nest. It's going to be rough on them, letting go of both their daughters so close together, but they've always been stronger and braver than I've given them credit for. They're going to do just fine. And so will I.

I now leave this entry with strangeness and sorrow, with love and bids farewell. You know, this diary has been one of my best friends this year, a silent guardian over my thoughts and dreams and fears and pointless rambles. It has watched me transform from an innocent, hopeful little girl to a woman. Can it really have been a year that did this to me? It's almost too much to believe; but I know it to be true.

Maybe I'll write in here again, maybe I won't. I don't really know what's in store for me next, as daylight continues to die and the coolness of the evening sets in. But you never know until you take that huge plunge forward.

Good-night and good-bye, then, diary. Until whenever.

Love,  
Lily

--

A/N: So there you have it. An ending. And now you have your end-of-story speech, a big Zay tradition upon finishing a large story…

Right. Well, whenever I write a multi-chaptered story, it's always kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing. I just write a chapter with a very vague idea of a plot in my head, and I post. It's not meant to be epic or anything. It's just…I dunno, something. And then you people, you wonderful readers from goodness-knows-where in the world, come and comment and make it bigger, somehow. You make it worth trying out and you get me excited to make that little bit of Something into my sun and earth for the next few months.

SSW was a bunch of random plot-bunnies gone wild. A lot of things in this story – Napoleon the kitty (who stays with Sirius, never fear), some of the random jokes and spiraling conversations, life after the first date – these were all things I'd wanted to write but didn't know where to put. It was also an exercise in plotting – which worked for the second half and not the first. It's been an experiment and it's been something I've adored trying out. It's been like a baby, really. It's frustrated me, it's tortured me, but I've loved it and nurtured it to the end.

Thanks, as always, for getting excited when I post and telling me exactly how it is, never holding anything back. It's been a ride – it always is – but it's been a good one, I think. Even if I look back on this story later some day and gag. It's the experience that counts after all.

And now that I've bored you all to death with that little ramble, thank you one more time, and please remember to leave your last review on your way out. If you ever want some more Zay-ness, you know where my profile is – it's linked somewhere at the top of the page.

Cheers.

-Zay


End file.
